Something to Sleep to
by so-complicated
Summary: AU. It's been four years, and now Mia Giordano is forced to move back to Sherwood, Minnesota and live with the Knight family after the tragic death of her parents; pushing her to not only deal with the present, but reconnect with the past. Kendall/OC, and so much more.
1. Chapter 1: Shades of Gray

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello my fanfiction friends! How are you? Haha. This is actually my first fic posted on this site, and my first fanfiction in about...4? 5? years or so, so please bear with me here. Pardon my rustiness! This story is a Friendship/Angst/Romance story with a Kendall/James/OC love triangle-but with a twist-and a bit of slash. Yes, you read that right, slash. So hopefully this story has something for everyone! The slash couple is kept secret on purpose, btw. It will give too much of the plot away :D **

**The story will be in first person, in my OC Mia Giordano's point of view. It is AU in the sense that there is no Palm Woods/BTR, but some of your favorite Palm Woods habitants WILL be making appearances, so be on the lookout for that. The entire story takes place in Minnesota, the beginning around summer. ****The story is rated T for now, but will move to M in later chapters.**

**A BIG thank you goes out to waterwicca, surfergal23, and christinainwonderland, who are not only amazing authors, but also amazing friends! I honestly would not have been able to finish this chapter or even post this fic without their support/input. Thank you so much ladies for everything you've done, and putting up with my annoying PMs! Make sure to read their stories, Past the Sorrow (waterwicca), Ampersand (christinainwonderland), Hooked, and Bittersweet (both surfergal23). And, if you are a more bisexual BTR reader myself, and enjoy slash AND het, check out waterwicca's For the Lovers Of... series that have pretty much every BTR pairing imaginable!**

**Okay, enough rambling. I promise author's notes won't be this long in the future! Please read and review :D I'd love to know what you think. Enjoy!**

******DISCLAIMER: As much as I would love to admit that I own the boys/BTR in general, I don't. I do own my character, Mia though! **

* * *

_Chapter 1: Shades of Gray_

* * *

Shades of gray.

They were all that I could see as I rolled over in my bed, taking a second to breathe in that familiar smell. I inhaled deeply, the familiar scent sending my mind into a tailspin, teetering on the edge of fantasy, and reality.

In my mind, she'd still be here.

The worry of her scent fading along with my memories would fade. I could still take those twelve steps to her bedroom, pressing her sleeping frame flush against my own. I'd look at her, wondering how I could have come from something so beautiful, something I'd kill to emulate, even for a second. Her arms would wrap around me instinctually, her lips grazing against my forehead as she gave me a soft kiss against the skin. I'd live for those moments. I'd bask in the silence, the quaint comfort of being with someone that loved you unconditionally…until it was ripped away.

He'd come in, belligerent, his body reeking of alcohol and a substance I couldn't quite touch. He'd yank me out of bed, growling harshly at me to get out, his foot meeting harshly with my spine for emphasis. I'd stumble into my room, grabbing my dresser for support before he'd slam the door, low but audible mutters spilling from his throat. He'd curl up next to her, his arms putting her into a vice grip that jarred her, the familiar sound of protest a sign to start my day.

The sounds would continue throughout my morning routine; muffled in the shower, piercing as I'd eat my breakfast, just out of earshot as I walked towards the bus. I knew he'd be our demise. The ticking time bomb that had somehow spawned my birth was becoming more and more unstable-and it was only a matter of time before he'd blow.

I just hadn't expected her to go down with him.

I sat up, my mind snapping back to reality as I heard a soft knock on my door. Reluctantly, I pulled my head away from the smell, a sad smile gracing my countenance as I gazed upon the woman resting against my doorframe.

"Hi Mia," she said, melancholy painting her features. Long tendrils of red hair framed her face, contrasting with the black dress that wrapped demurely around her frame. "Are you ready to go? We need to get down to the church."

I hesitated.

I knew I would never be ready, but the world had left me with little to no choice; I had to go. The world was going to move on with or without me; and I knew better than to fall behind. I nodded, slowly getting up from the bed before slipping my feet into the shoes that awaited me upon touching the ground, the sound that accompanied my steps serving as a grim reminder for what was to come. The woman wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and I leaned into the touch, more so out of instinct than anything else. On any other day, I would have been grateful for Mrs. Knight's subtle touches of affection, but today, it felt like acid burning wildly against my skin. I fought off every urge to pull away, knowing that she needed the contact just as much as I disdained it.

"I know that today is going to be really hard for you, sweetie," she started to say, breaking the silence between us as we moved down the hallway. "But I want you to know that I am here for you. It's a lot to take in, hell, I am not even sure if I have taken it all in yet." She paused, placing her free hand against her chest as she stopped, taking a moment to collect herself. She shook her head, the smell of her shampoo temporarily permeating the air. I blinked, surprised at the amount of comfort the scent had brought me. It was nice to know that despite the fact that my life was changing, certain things would always remain the same.

"I'm sorry," she said, her strength returning as she stepped forward, lifting her head up once more before turning it towards me. "You've always been a Knight, you know. From the moment you were _born_ you were a Knight. Your mother and I even joked about hyphenating your name on the birth certificate." It was true. It was a tale I'd heard many times, the most memorable of which involving both her eldest child, Kendall, and I snuggling underneath a blanket, giggling at our mothers as they shared a bottle of wine, retelling tales of their childhood. His sister, Katie had already been asleep, camping out underneath the Christmas tree, determined to see santa.

Although Mrs. Knight strived to be a shining example to her children in terms of conduct, more often that not, she found herself letting her hair down around my mother, exposing a side of her that even she, herself was not aware of.

More often than not, Mrs. Knight was caution personified; consistently aware of what was around her, despite cloaking it underneath an air of obliviousness that even the sharpest of minds failed to uncover. But with my mother, she was, well, _loose_. It would have been hard to believe that she was the mother of two children, had it not been for the fact that there was a material touch to just about everything she did.

I grinned, remembering their Pinot Noir-induced laughter as they repeated the story to us, from Mrs. Knight's adamance about the hyphenation upon the day of my birth, to how my mother had to snatch the certificate away from her so that it wouldn't become a reality. Kendall and I would just look at each other, wondering if the women in front of us were truly blood related, or if they'd just been beamed down from another planet entirely.

Mrs. Knight noticed my grin and relaxed, causing me to blink as I'd barely noticed her change in stature to begin with. I leaned into her, our fingers intertwining as we continued to move down the hall, my heart leaping into my throat as I saw Kendall and Katie waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.

"Everything's going to be okay, Mia," she whispered, squeezing my fingers assuringly. "Remember what I told you? Today is about celebrating their lives, not saying goodbye because..."

"...there are no endings." I finished, causing her to smile sadly in my direction. "The people that you love are always with you, in mind, body, and spirit." She nodded, taking a deep breath before beginning to walk down the stairs with me trailing slightly behind her.

I could barely look at Kendall and Katie as I approached them, though instinct alone told me that their faces were filled with both sadness (Kendall's) and tears (Katie's). A half-hearted wave accompanied my quick look, my eyes immediately moving down to study the carpet.

"Is everyone ready?" Mrs. Knight asked, well aware of the weight her words had carried. We would never be ready-no one ever was when it came to death. But there it was, hanging over the room, controlling our every action. It was amazing how powerful one word could be.

"Yes," I replied, my eyes moving towards the Knight's front door. "I'm ready."

I began to move forward, knowing that Kendall was going to use the opportunity to try and talk to me, much like he had all week to my chagrin. I knew that he wanted to be there for me, to reclaim his place at my right hand side much like he had during our childhood, as if I had been attempting to keep it warm over the past 4 years.

I hadn't. And he knew why.

I walked quickly, Kendall trailing behind me along with Katie, who he'd taken to envelop in his arms once he realized that I wasn't up for conversation. I knew that he wouldn't give up; he was a Knight, and stubbornness was a quality that ran in the family beyond generations that even genealogists weren't aware of.

We all got into the car, my arms crossing over my chest as I leaned back into the cool leather of the limousine. Mrs. Knight wrapped her arm around my shoulders, and it was all I could do not to lash out at Kendall as he slid in next to me, Katie following just seconds later. I hesitated as the vehicle began to move, the silence all but deafening as we made our way over to the church. I pretended not to notice Kendall glancing in my direction, his features painted with the words, 'We need to talk.' I chewed on my bottom lip both out of habit and nervousness, wishing that he would take his eyes off of me. Mrs. Knight held me closer to her, figuring that my nerves were stemming from having to see my parents resting soundly in their caskets, almost as if they belonged there. If she only knew.

A collective sigh was heard in the car as we pulled up to the church, our eyes locked on the now ominous brick building. My fingers curled into my palm, all of a sudden wondering how people managed to find peace in place where the dead met the living for their final goodbye. It almost pained me to know that in a week's time, people would be worshipping here, unaware of the various tears that littered the floor their heels clacked upon, before sitting in pews that once held lost souls.

"Come on, kids. Let's go," Mrs. Knight said, a twinge of sadness in her voice. She sigh as she opened the door, squinting as the sunlight hit her face. I followed just seconds later, Kendall and Katie trailing slightly behind.

The mourners that had been bee-lining towards the church stopped in their tracks, shooting me sympathetic looks and sad smiles. I grimaced, more so to myself than anyone else, hating how I had become the center of attention. I was now a prime morsel of food in the eyes of vultures, waiting to attack the second I showed any sign of weakness. I could already hear their artificial words running through my head, wondering how many contrived gestures I had to stomach before the day was over. I dug my heels into the concrete, a mere two steps away from the wooden doors, ready to run. I was too young, too fragile to handle it all. Three pairs of hands steadied me as I wobbled beneath my feet, before carefully guiding me into the building.

* * *

Twenty-three.

That's how many contrived gestures I had to stomach, many of them coming in the form of some sort of embrace, followed by words more suited for Hallmark cards than to be heard by human ears. I smiled, muttering various 'Thank yous' as the day went on, all of them culminating at the reception in the Knight home.

The funeral itself was a blur, a sea of black clothes and solemn words that I couldn't quite catch, my mind still not accepting the jarring reality of the loss. The only moment of clarity I had occurred upon standing at the pulpit back at the church, my eyes locking on three distant memories: James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, and Logan Mitchell.

I wasn't entirely sure why they were vague, as I'd devoted at least eight years of my life to those boys, becoming an intricate part of their adventures, no matter how hair-brained they seemed.

Though I had four years on the boys-Kendall and I having known each other since birth-it was clear that what he shared with them went beyond what we had, even if we'd shared the same womb. It wasn't so much that he was closer to them, no, they just had a different connection. Though he loved us all the same, they'd captured a different part of his heart, probing into connections that I couldn't touch. It was clear that the boys were meant to be friends. Even if they'd met in a different generation, they'd still manage to find their way to each other. It was just that cosmic.

I disliked them at first, hating how they monopolized my time, as Kendall had been my only friend when we started school. Though they tried to include me in their games, I resisted, my disdain for them growing more intense as we spent more time together. By the end of fall, I was barely speaking to Kendall, despite the occasional breakthroughs I'd begun to experiences as I became more used to their presence.

It wasn't until March that I'd finally embraced them as friends, thanks in large part to an incident at snack time. Jo Taylor, one of the meaner girls in the class, had "accidentally" knocked my snack off my desk, sending my entire meal, consisting of milk and Teddy Grahams, down the dress I'd just gotten from mother just days before. My eyes filled up with tears, hearing the other kids gasp and snicker as I ran out of the room, immediately holding myself up into the playhouse we had just outside of the classroom.

I cried, resting my head in my hands, one of the teachers following just seconds later, attempting to coax me out of the plastic building. I refused, continuing to wail, just barely hearing the words, "Mrs. Thompson, let me try," from a familiar voice. They knocked on the door before peeking inside, three other people trailing behind him.

_"Mia?" he asked, crawling into the enclosed space. I looked up, slightly startled as I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, sniffling. _

_It was Kendall. _

_He sat next to me, enclosing the fingers of my free hand around his as I leaned into him, staying quiet._

_"It's okay, Mia. If it helps, your dress still looks pretty," he said, causing me to giggle. _

_"No it doesn't!" I replied, wiping my nose once again._

_"Sure it does! And if it doesn't, that's what we're here for!" I looked at him, confused before turning my attention towards the door, smiling at the sight. James was holding a carton of milk, Carlos, a bag of Teddy Grahams, and Logan, a napkin. I smiled, taking all the items, putting the most logical to quick use._

_"W-Why are you helping me?" I asked as I began to dab at my dress._

_"Because we're your friends, silly!" Carlos replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world._

_"Really?" I questioned. They all nodded._

_"Kendall kept tellin' us how nice you were, even though you weren't very nice to us," James answered, scowling a bit towards the end. _

_"Mama Knight told us that gotta get used to new friends before you are nice to them," Logan continued, "So we just waited for you to like us!"_

_"See how nice we are?" Carlos all but shouted, leading Logan and James to cover their ears._

_"Too loud!" Logan barked. Kendall meanwhile, having already been conditioned to Carlos' behavior, simply giggled and shook his head._

_"You'll get used to him," he assured, seeing the face I made upon hearing Carlos' plea. "Now, let's go back in the classroom. We're gonna finger paint after snack time!" James and Carlos high-fived each other, suddenly remembering the itinerary for the day._

_"I am gonna paint Jo's head on a gorilla!" Carlos declared. The playhouse erupted into a fit of giggles._

_"That isn't very nice," Logan commented once his laughter subsided._

_"B-But, she made Mia cry!" he retorted, pouting. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Logan, who simply mirrored his action in return._

_"That doesn't make it okay!" _

_"Yes, it does!"_

_"No, it doesn't!"_

_"An eye for an eye!"_

_"Do you even know what that means?"_

_"Kids, it's time for you to put on your smocks for art time!" Mrs. Thompson called out. Carlos and Logan were still grumbling at each other as we all filed out, heading back into the classroom. Not one to miss a chance to discipline, she pulled Carlos aside, explaining the cruelty behind painting human heads onto animal bodies. He grumbled, obliging to the teacher's wishes, though those were quickly discarded during lunchtime after finding a centipede in the grass. Kendall, James and I watched with interest as he slipped it into her lunch bag, Logan having gone to use the bathroom. The three of us fell over, giggling as Jo reached in, before screaming and throwing her bag as she spotted Carlos' "gift." As Jo stalked off, Carlos came around from the tree he'd been hiding behind, greeting us with high fives before joining us on the grass._

_"Dude, that was epic," James said, beaming as he took a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich._

_Carlos shrugged, replying before grinning, "I could have done worse." _

_Another set of laughs erupted, our conversation moving from the prank to other topics, a feeling of contentment washing over me. It was amazing how much everything just seemed so natural, as if I was born to be with these boys, becoming an integral piece of their already palatable dynamic. I wasn't sure what I added-if I added anything at all, but the boys would always be associated with one word that would help me get through the next eight years, before my life really, truly, went to hell._

_Home._

* * *

There they were, staring back at me. Three pairs of eyes, all filled with emotion. I knew they wanted to approach me, to wrap their arms around me just like they would have five years ago, knowing that I would bask in the comfort. I'd shaken my head as I walked off, my speech finished, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. It was the closest I'd come to crying throughout the whole ceremony, not just for my parents, but for myself. I thought about everything I'd lost, and how little I'd gained over the years, the latter just barely enough to sustain me, if at all. I didn't understand why my parents had left me alone, how they could have been so selfish with my existence. Sometimes I felt less like a child, and more like a plaything, something to manipulate into whatever they wanted me to be, my tacit compliance music to their ears.

Or at least, to his ears, anyway.

I rolled over in my bed at the Knight's, careful not to breathe in too much of the scent of my new sheets, not wanting to lose what little I had left of my mother. We had just spent the last few weeks going through my parent's assets, deciding what to keep, and what to throw away. I'd been insistent on getting rid of it all, save for a few lay things that I couldn't bear to part with.

I'd almost kept the sheets, tempted to keep something, _anything_ with her scent on it, before I thought about its future. I thought about it being diluted in water, joining two or three of its brethren, chemicals dancing playfully around them before attacking viciously, tearing apart what little DNA was left on the sheets. I shuddered at the thought, rolling over on the bed once more, trying to get used to the new material. I pulled the covers sharply over my head, trying to shut out the world, much like I had been doing over the past few weeks.

That is, until I heard a knock on my door.

"Dude, what if she's still sleeping? Beauty sleep is important, especially to girls!" someone said. The voice paused for a minute, before adding, "And handsome men, such as myself." I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand, hoping to god that the sound hadn't carried to the door. It couldn't be.

"Then we'll wait," another replied, this one significantly more familiar. "Either that, or we'll do it ourselves. Mom's been dying for her to come down and eat with us. It'll be good for her." I dropped my hand away from my mouth, using it instead to grip the sheets in an attempt to restrain myself. Who was he to say what was or wasn't good for me? He didn't even know me anymore, and to have to audacity to think that he _did_, was more than enough to make my blood boil.

"I don't know, guys. Isn't she like Mrs. Knight? 'Cause if she hasn't gotten her eight hours, there's _no way_ I'm going in there. I actually like my anatomy the way it is, thank you very much," a third piped up. I smirked. I'd always liked him, he always knew when to move forward, and when to retreat. The guys could have benefitted from listening to him; this was definitely a time for the latter.

"But guys, we _love_ Mimi," a fourth reasoned, a bounciness to his tone. I froze. No one had called me that in years. The name had fallen to the wayside, much like everything else in my life upon moving away from Sherwood five years ago. I hadn't realized how much I missed it until I heard it fall from his lips, a wave of nostalgia hitting me with brute force. "She needs us right now. You know that Mama Knight's been worried about her."

"She also needs to not be ambushed, Carlos," the third countered. "Not all of us have been through what she's been through. You can't blame her for being this way."

"It's been three weeks, Logan. She needs to be out with friends, enjoying life. I'm pretty sure Aunt Sophie wouldn't want her to just be lying in bed, letting the whole world pass her by!" Kendall retorted, fiddling with the doorknob. I could hear the clicking associated with it, my breath rising, only to be collected in my throat.

"Just..promise me we'll be gentle with her. If she doesn't want to come out, then we're not gonna force her to do anything that she's not ready for," Logan insisted. A series of compliant grumbles followed before I heard my door open completely. I laid there, completely still, eyes shut tightly, hoping that upon gazing at my sleeping frame that they would leave me alone.

I had no such luck.

Four dips in the mattress indicated this, as I tried to keep my frame as steady as possible. Silence hung overhead, as the boys tried to figure out exactly what to do.

"Mimi?" Carlos called, my body stiffening underneath the sheets. He'd placed his hand on my shoulder, my body stiffening at the contact. I knew he felt it, as his hand quickly moved away from the area, almost as if it were on fire. "I-I-I think she's still asleep. L-Let's leave her alone."

Carlos never could master the art of lying.

"Wait," Kendall said, shifting closer to me, his signature scent a dead giveaway. The aroma much like him, had evolved with age, but somehow still managed to remain the same. Recent history not withstanding, of course.

I was ninety-five percent sure he was studying me, as silence had taken over the room once more, as he debated on whether or not he wanted to buy into Carlos's plea. I was hoping that the five years had provided a gap that stripped him of the clairvoyance he once had, knowing my every thought, every move, before I could even begin to map out the action. I had always been translucent to him, yet to me, he was an enigma, always surprising me when I least expected it, basking in the deception. He was a Knight, after all. Deceit was a fine art in that family, coming naturally, yet perfected with time. Perhaps it was the universe coming into play, kismet feeding on our contrasting personalities. Kendall, despite his love for artifice, was generally a straightforward person, while I reveled in the work, the preparation it took to unearth someone's innermost secrets and the care that took to keeping them afterward.

It wasn't exactly the fairest of trades.

"Kendall, what are you doing?" James asked, bewildered.

"Just, give me a minute here, James," he answered, my heart beating erratically against my chest. I, too, was wondering what he'd been planning, if my stoic position was more than enough to protect me.

It wasn't.

Within seconds, I'd gotten my answer, a shriek escaping my lips as I squirmed against the sheets while simultaneously becoming entangled in them.

He was tickling me.

"Kendall, stop!" I said between laughs as I tried to evade him. "I give! I give!" I was just about to swat him when he got off of me, more than satisfied with what he'd done. I sat up on the bed, giving him the death glare as the other boys chuckled, Carlos in particular more than a little amused.

"I'm sorry! It was like you were one of those fish! You know, all-" he started to say, before mimicking what I assumed to be a marooned fish, his limbs flailing wildly across the bed. Unfortunately, while he was doing this, somehow managed to hit Logan in the back of the head, causing him to yelp loudly in pain.

"Dude, watch it!" he spat, moving slightly away from the other boy.

"Sorry, Logie," Carlos said, blushingly. I almost smiled. I'd forgotten how cute Carlos could be at times. It was endearing.

"What do you guys want?" I asked, refusing to get caught up in his childlike demeanor.

"We," Kendall said, gesturing to the boys, "came to cheer you up." I rolled my eyes, pulling the covers over my head as I laid back down onto mattress.

"I don't need to be 'cheered up.' I need to be left _alone_," I replied, from underneath my makeshift hiding spot.

"You've been alone for three weeks, Mia," Kendall pointed out, ripping the covers from me. "It's time for you to get back into the world, to live life! You need to start enjoying yourself again."

"I was _enjoying_ lying in bed until you guys came in, so maybe it's time for you all to vacate," I retorted, attempting to snatch the sheets back from him. However, it was to no avail, as years of hockey had conditioned him greatly, quickening his reaction time. He pulled the sheets away, hiding them behind his back with a smile.

"But Mimi, we miss you," Carlos admitted, making me soften instantly. I looked over at him, noting the sad expression that had graced his countenance. With him, you never had to guess whether or not his emotions were real; he always wore his heart on sleeve, making every sensitivity obvious. "Don't you miss us?"

I turned away, no longer able to look at Carlos. His big, brown eyes had filled with tears, the thought alone of me saying anything other than a resounding yes threatening to break his heart. I stayed silent, trying to ignore the stares from _all_ of the boys as they awaited my answer, not knowing what to say. I felt trapped; I wasn't ready to unload this much, this quickly. I was hoping to work up to this, work _up_ to talking to them. Yet there it was, building up in my chest, just begging for release, pleading for me to tell the truth.

"Yes," I whispered, lifting my head up to examine them.

Carlos looked relieved, James and Logan surprised, Kendall smug, as if it were the answer he had been expecting.

"Y-You really missed us, Mimi?" James asked, the incredulous expression never leaving his countenance.

"Yes, of course, Jamie," I replied, smirking as I used the childhood moniker. He grinned, and I couldn't help but smile in return, finding the action infectious. Kendall, I noticed, had scowled a bit at this, though the expression left just as quickly as it came.

"So…does this mean that you'll come out and play hockey with us?" Logan asked, shyly.

"_If _you want to," Kendall hastily added. "Today is completely in your hands. We just wanted to spend a little time with you, that's all."

I paused for a minute, weighing all of my options before nodding in agreement. "Yes, I will play hockey with you guys. After that, though, I get to pick what we do. And you can't complain, no matter how girly it is."

The guys huddled together for a moment, whispering to each other before breaking apart moments later, saying, "Deal."

"Yes! Mimi's coming with us!" Carlos cheered, pulling me into a tight bear hug. He pulled away before adding shyly, "Maybe…after you take a shower?" The boys and I laughed, shaking our heads. James leaned over, quickly sniffing me before making a face, quickly retracting his frame from my own.

"Carlos…has a point. You do offend," James agreed, nodding. I laughed, hitting him with a pillow in retaliation before getting off of the bed.

"Mia!" James said, his hands moving to fix his dark chocolate hair. Ah, sweet vindication.

"Alright guys, you need to vacate," I said, walking over to the bedroom door with a smile. "I need to shower, and as much as I love you-well, most of you-that is something that I need to do, alone."

"And you're sure you going to shower?" Kendall asked. I crossed my arms over my chest, exhaling in irritation.

"Yes, Kendall. I am quite positive. Now get out of my room so that I can get my shit together," I replied, turning the knob angrily before opening the door. One by one, the boys filed out, Kendall lingering slightly as he walked out, waiting for the other boys to file out into the hallway before turning around and whispering:

"Told you I'd get you out of the house."


	2. Chapter 2: Warfare

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took so long, hahaha. This one was a labor of love, most definitely. I am already gearing up to write Chapter 3, if that helps make up for the delay! Thank you to those of you who have reviewed/altered/just viewed this in general, it means a lot. I've changed the timeline of the story slightly, it will now be four years since Mia has seen the boys/Mrs. Knight etc. instead of five. I feel like we have a longer timeline now with this change, and it makes the logistics of the story a lot easier to process in my head, haha.**

**Special thank yous go out to waterwicca and surfergal23 for putting up with my erratic PMs again and being very awesome supporters of my story. Without them, this chapter would have never seen the light of day. Oh, and READ THEIR STORIES. They're super good, I swear. ****Anyway, please review! Anonymous reviews are enabled, so feel free to let me know your thoughts.**

**DISCLAIMER: As cool as it would be to own BTR, I don't. I do own Mia, however.**

* * *

_Chapter 2: Warfare_

* * *

Showering at the Knight home had always been strange.

I didn't feel the need, the_ urgency_ to scrub my lithe frame as quickly as possible, knowing that at any second, _he_ could come in. I didn't have to turn down the water pressure so that I could hear his footsteps, the action serving as an interlude to the next battle. I could still feel his fingers curling into my scalp on the days I hadn't noticed, how my body went limp prior to being thrown unceremoniously onto the tiled floor. He'd close the curtain without another word, cleansing himself normally as I laid there, doubled over in pain. I'd grab a towel from the rack once I'd recovered enough to move, making quick work to wrap it around me before heading into my room, bursting into tears. I'd let them fall for five minutes, pulling myself together just moments later, reminding myself that this wasn't who I was supposed to be. I needed to be strong, if not for myself, then for her. She needed to know that I was okay, that I was powering through this just as much as she was, if not more. If I was alright, she was alright. That's just the way it was.

I had to force myself to feed into the lie, that this was just a phase, that life wasn't falling apart, that we weren't better off in Sherwood with all of our family and friends. We'd do anything to keep our family together, no matter how broken it was. It wasn't perfect, but it was ours.

That had to count for something, right?

I shut off the water, watching the remnants circle before being sucked down the drain, trying not to think about how much the action served as a reminder of my own life. I thought the former had been the worst; the waiting, the _anticipation _of it all falling apart at a moment's notice. There were days when I begged, _pleaded_ for it to come, for it all be over so that I could finally let go of my bated breath, my lungs threatening to crumble at the intensity.

Too bad the outcome was so much worse.

I sighed, attempting to let go of my thoughts as I exited, my body covered in the terrycloth robe Mrs. Knight was kind enough to buy for me. I padded into my room, pretending not to hear the laughter floating in from downstairs, my fingers clenching into fists. I couldn't believe he'd gotten me to do this. I wanted to slap the smirk right off to Kendall Knight's face as he'd slyly admitted his plan, finally attaining a small victory after weeks of intense battle.

_'I told you I'd get you out of the house.'_

I combed my dark hair angrily before getting dressed, choosing to simply throw on a pair of jeans, as well as a short-sleeved t-shirt. There was no way in _hell_ I was getting dolled up for this. I made my way downstairs, all conversation ceasing upon my entry into the kitchen.

"Well, well, look who decided to get out of bed," Katie commented with a smile. I laughed slightly, rolling my eyes as I situated myself next to her, giving my baby sister a hug. She hugged me back, the movement expressing more than words ever could. I looked down at her in understand before kissing the top of her head lightly. Katie and Mrs. Knight were one of the few people I couldn't be mean to, despite my depressive state. Mrs. Knight because she reminded me of my mother with her benevolence and grace, and Katie because she was too young, too fragile to be harsh to. I wanted her to enjoy her youth, to be better than me, better than Kendall at protecting others. She'd been tainted enough already; I didn't want to make things worse.

"Yep," James said, popping his collar. "All thanks to me."

"Um, excuse me, I believe that this was a _team_ effort," Logan replied.

"Yeah!" Carlos agreed, his mouth filled to the brim with cereal. I grimaced as bits of food went flying across the island we were all sitting around as if it were shrapnel, just barely dodging a piece with a swift lean to the left. "It took ALL of us to get Mimi to come to play with us, not just you and your _man spray_." He twirled his spoon as he said this, James scowling in his direction as he lifted his arm to sniff his armpits.

"Hey, don't knock the spray. It has gotten many a female to get in-and out-of bed with me, thank you very much," James replied, indignantly. I covered Katie's ears.

"Um, hi, James? Child in the room?" I said, shooting him a glare.

"First, I'm _not _a child," Katie said, albeit a little too loudly before prying my hands away from her ears. "Second, I've heard this before. Although you are an awesome big sister for trying to protect me, it doesn't change the fact that James definitely _doesn't_ have a filter. Or really, make it any less gross." I chuckled. I always loved Katie's sharp tongue, it brought both endless amusement, as well as a surprising amount of truth for someone of her age. I fist-bumped her, a wide smirk playing on my lips as James gasped over-dramatically.

"Excuse me, but um, James Diamond doesn't need a filter. What you need is not eavesdrop on our conversation!" James replied, jabbing a finger in her direction.

"Hello? I _live_ here, and I was quietly eating my breakfast until you guys came along and-" Katie started to say before hooking one of her pancakes with a fork, holding it up for display. "Got bits of cereal on my food."

"Sorry," Carlos said blushingly. "I can always make you more!"

"NO!" James, Logan and Katie said in unison.

"I think I'll just have a muffin instead. And eat it. In my room," Katie said, getting off of her stool. She took her plate with her, dumping the remains into the trash and putting it into the sink. She grabbed a muffin from a plate on the counter, moving to the stairs before stopping and turning to look in my direction. "Big sis, I'm glad you're back. I really missed you."

I smiled, tears threatening to fall from my eyes as I replied, "I missed you too, baby sis." She smiled back, giving an eye roll to James, and headed up the stairs. It was at this point that Kendall descended the stairs, the sight alone making me turn around in my seat, focusing my attention on the rest of the boys. Logan had taken Katie's empty seat, while James moved into the free one on my left. I pretended not to notice the scent of his man spray, and how right he was about the intoxicating smell that emitted.

The last thing I needed to do was lust after James Diamond.

"Why is my baby sister going upstairs with a muffin?" Kendall asked, confusion littering his features. If it had been another universe entirely, I would have found the gesture to be cute. But it wasn't. He sat next to Carlos, shooting me a sly smile.

"The usual," Logan replied, laconically.

"Carlos threatening to cook and James going into too much detail about his love life?" Kendall asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Logan answered before shrugging.

"Dude, you've got to stop doing that in front of my baby sister. For fuck's sake, there are lines!"

"Hey, It's not my fault that your sister has a crush on me!" James exclaimed, flashing his trademark grin. "You can't expect me to just keep this-" he paused, making jazz fingers with his hands as he bobbed his head from side to side, "-in the closet, do you?"

"He still hasn't stopped doing that?" I asked, incredulous.

"Sometimes he does it with hairspray," Carlos replied. Thankfully, after swallowing this time.

"One time he even got Carlos in the eye," Logan added, wincing.

"Hey! I told him not to come within six inches of me while I'm activating the spray!" James defended, huffing. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, Logan and I doing a simultaneous eye roll before laughing.

"'Activating the spray,' James? _Really_?" I asked between laughs.

"It takes a lot of work to be beautiful, Mia! I just don't come downstairs looking like this. It takes time! And effort! And beauty products!"

"Oh, you mean like your Cuda Action Tan?" Kendall chided, causing Carlos to nearly choke on his cereal.

"Dude, I remember that! James looked like a yam for like, three weeks!" he exclaimed, belly laughing.

"_I told you to never speak of that!_" James said, his voice low and menacing. The rest of us busted out in laughter, blush creeping up on James's cheeks. "And it's _Mangerine_ Action Tan, thank you."

"Come to think of it, I may or may not have pictures of him from that era," Logan said, smirking. "It was pretty funny."

"You _have_ to show me those, Logie! There's no way I am missing out on that!" I replied.

"Yes, you are!" James said to me, before turning his attention to Logan. "And YOU, you said that you deleted those pictures!"

"Well…I…um. Haha, a-a-about that…" Logan stammered. James narrowed his eyes at him before attacking him, tackling him to the floor. The two immediately began to wrestle, their yelling indecipherable as they combatted, much to Kendall and Carlos's amusement.

"Twenty bucks on Logan!" Carlos called out.

"I dunno, James is pretty pissed. I think he'll take him this time," Kendall replied as they watched the fight with interest. I, too, became mesmerized by the scene, surprised at how evenly both boys seemed to be matched, as my subconscious had originally sided with Kendall.

"Give me the camera!" James shouted as he continued to tumble with Logan, neither boy showing any sign of stopping.

"_Never!_" Logan cried out, his voice slightly strained. "I don't even have it on me anyway!"

"What is going on here?" Mrs. Knight asked as she walked in, groceries in hand. Everything seemed to stop at her arrival, the freeze-framing of it all making me slightly uneasy. How was one person capable of so much power?

"Um, the usual Saturday morning?" Carlos said, shrugging sheepishly as he grinned, breaking the silence that had loomed overhead.

"Uh huh. Boys, please get up from my floor," she said, placing the bags onto the counter. "And since you two seem to be the cause of all this ruckus, you two can go get the rest of the groceries from the car!" She smiled, though you could easily tell it was a formality; the action serving as more of a 'right now,' rather than a 'pretty please.' James and Logan got up, shoving each other slightly as they headed out of the door, their grumbles just barely out of earshot. She then turned her attention back to the island, gasping as she noticed my presence.

"M-Mia," she said, incredulous, the groceries forgotten as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I hugged her back despite myself, submerging myself into the sinful contact. It almost seemed wrong to hug someone that wasn't my mother, the idea of it alone a slap in the face to her memory. I tried to ignore the feelings that had begun to stir, the feeling of love, of wanting to _be_ loved. I already was.

And I would never see her again.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm so glad you decided to come down. I've been so worried about you." She smoothed out my hair, placing her hands on either side of my face as her eyes locked with mine. Her own had filled with tears, the sight alone making me want to assure her that I was okay, that there was no need for those, because I'd felt stronger. But I couldn't. I placed my own on top of hers, pulling her into the second hug I knew she needed. I hated lying to her; I hated lying to anyone I loved, but I'd long since considered the act more out of self-preservation than anything. I _had_ to lie, I _had_ to pretend that everything was okay; it was the only way I knew how to survive. Anything beyond that was irrelevant. At least, in my mind, anyway.

"Did…we interrupt something?" James asked, a look of concern adorning his features. I pulled away from Mrs. Knight, turning to look at him and Logan, noting the large amount of grocery bags in their arms.

"No, I was…just telling Mia how nice it is to see her down here again," Mrs. Knight, immediately pulling herself together upon their arrival. She took the bags, setting them on the counter before beginning to take items out one at a time. "So, what do you kids have planned today?"

"We were, uh, gonna take Mia to the rink. You know, to play a little hockey," Kendall replied, getting off of his stool. "Speaking of, we should um, probably get going." Mrs. Knight nodded, a slow smile creeping up on her features, happy that I finally gathered enough strength to face the world.

Too bad she didn't realize it was by force.

* * *

Hockey wasn't my first love.

In fact, I'd disdained the sport at first, due to the fact that it'd always seem to cut into my time with Kendall, who insisted that we watch the games at his house. Although basic instinct told me it was because he had the comfier couch, the paranoia inside of me feared it was something deeper. As if he somehow _knew_ that six o'clock was when their fighting had reached its peak, the sound of broken glass a prime indicator of the time. I could always gauge the time of day based on the sounds in my home, the slightest change in pitch leading me to either retreat to my room, or slip out for sustenance. I called the latter "safe zones," though with my tense body language, it was obvious that the time was anything but. Every action I made had to be in haste, fear of getting caught in the crossfire quickening my limbs, meeting my needs in record amounts of time.

I'd sneak downstairs once my parents had gone to sleep, surveying the battlefield with tired eyes before picking up the broom and dustpan from the hall closet, clearing the living room of its casualties. Sometimes I wondered if the items had any value to them at all, or if they'd simply become meaningless, horrible reminders of what the Giordano family used to be, before we fell apart. Rather, before _he_ fell apart.

I'd sit there, curled into Kendall just as I always was, his blonde hair contrasting with my darker tones, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Every now and then he'd jump, knocking me off balance as he yelled at the tv, the words nothing short of gibberish in my brain.

I wasn't exactly a hockey expert.

_"Kendall, do you really have to do that?" I asked, stretching out on the couch. I placed my feet in his lap, choosing instead to rest my head against the arm of the plush furnishing. At least that didn't move._

_"Mia, come on! How could you not be into this? It's the freakin' championships. The Minnesota Wild vs. Edmonton Oilers, you can't fake action like this!" Kendall said, gesturing dramatically towards the television for emphasis._

_"All I see are a bunch of dudes dressed in semi-baggy clothing chasing after a disc," I said, rolling my eyes. "You know, this is the one night a week we get to spend together, alone and you want to watch hockey." Kendall and I made it a point to hang out together at least once a week, just the two of us, finding ourselves missing the dynamic that came with us being as one. I'd long since accepted that I would always be slightly selfish when it came to Kendall, more so out of instinct than anything. I'd seen him at his lowest moments, ones that even the boys couldn't see, and it was because of those, and those alone that I would always keep him close to me, protecting him from the world whose cruelty had already seeped into my bones, hardening me to my core._

_I'd be damned if I let that happen to him._

_"B-But I thought you liked hockey. You're always there cheering me and the guys on when we play," Kendall replied, moving closer to me._

_"That's different. I'm right there where the action is. This is just boring. I'd much rather be on the ice than just watching it on tv," I explained, crossing my legs at my ankles._

_"So, you're saying that if you played hockey with us, you would like it more?" Kendall clarified, smirking._

_"Oh no, no, no. I can barely skate as it is. I'm pretty sure Carlos has a million pictures of me falling on my butt. I even had to put ice on it at home," I pointed out before simultaneously face-palming at my words. I should have known better than to divulge something like that to Kendall Knight._

_He attempted to hold back his laughter, one slender hand covering his mouth as the room filled with stifled snickering. Oh, how I wanted to kill him._

_"How much ice?" he asked with an amused smile, once he'd calmed down enough to speak._

_"Enough," I said, succinctly, turning my head back to the T.V._

_"Come on, Mia. I know you want to tell me," He teased, pushing my legs off of his lap so that he could move closer to me. I shoved his head away, seeing the familiar Knight family smirk invade my peripherals._

_"No, I really don't. Besides, you're supposed to be watching the game, you know. Not creepily staring at my face," I pointed out, motioning towards the screen._

_"It's kinda hard not to," Kendall replied, his tone softening. I gave him a look, his cheeks promptly filling with rouge before hastily adding, "You know, cause you have a booger in it."_

_I gasped, covering my nose before scowling as I watched him hold his stomach as he hunched over in laughter._

_"You jerk!" I exclaimed, scooping out a handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table, shoving them into his mouth. I grinned as he sputtered, playful rage evident on his features._

_"Hey!" he said, his words muffled significantly by the salty sustenance that invaded his taste buds. He dug his own hand into the dish, grabbing a small quantity, pushing the contents into mine as well. I laughed, swiping the bowl entirely, beginning to hurl provisions in his direction. He held up a pillow in self-defense, while trying to find his own weapon of choice, his eyes spotting the bowl of Cheetos his mother had left for us._

_It wasn't long before I was dodging the florescent snack food left and right, my own actions increasing tenfold, grabbing bigger portions of chips in my hands before launching them at the blonde boy. Giggles filled the room as we continued our war, and for the first time, I was actually glad I was caught in the crossfire. This was nothing like the battles in my home; it was fun, it was playful, it was…therapeutic. Kendall always had a way of making me forget, of reminding me that there was a still normal girl inside of me, biding her time until she could unleash herself onto the world and fill me with the kind of happiness that I'd long-since deemed intangible._

_I ducked behind the couch, food in hand, ready to strike, when my eyes surveyed the battleground. I couldn't help but get lost in the contrast of it all, how a messy area here didn't hold the weight, the suffering that came with one in my own home. There was no anxiety, no paranoia, there was just…safety. The disarray at the Knight's didn't stem from hatred. There was no language preceding or succeeding it, no glares being exchanged as footsteps cautiously circled the remains, bodies filled with the skillful stillness that came with planning the next attack. Here, everything was light-hearted, warm, everything my home wasn't. It almost made me wish that I was born into their family, that Mrs. Knight was my mother, just so that I could feel that natural security that occurred with just being around the Knight family._

_Orange quickly clouded my vision, a low growl escaping my lips as I shook my head, my eyes focusing on the blonde-haired boy smirking from behind the coffee table. He'd turned the mahogany piece into a shield by turning it on its side, the furnishing managing to cover about ninety percent of his kneeled frame._

_"You ready to give up?" he asked, holding up yet another serving of Cheetos._

_"No way!" I shouted out, slowly coming up from behind the couch. Kendall followed suit, abandoning the coffee table as we rotated around the room, our eyes locked on one another. There was no telling who would strike first, as our tentative dance tended to go on for minutes at a time, the longest of which totaling a half hour. My fingers entwined around the chips, feeling them break in my palm, inhaling sharply at the tension that had pervaded the room. Both he and I fed off this, the lighthearted anticipation that accompanied the unknown, the allure strengthening our resolve. This was swiftly broken as Mrs. Knight stepped into the room, hands on her hips as she, too, took in the space._

_"What is going on here?" she shouted, making us jump._

_"Um, whimsical preteen fun?" Kendall answered, an impish smile playing on his features. It took every fiber of my being not to giggle, my teeth dangerously close to splitting my bottom lip as I bit down, harshly._

_"Oh yeah? Well you 'whimsical preteens' can spend the rest of the night cleaning up this mess," she replied, grabbing two brooms, and two dustpans from the kitchen closet and handing them to us. Twin groans immediately followed, soon to be accompanied by the slow shuffling of feet as we began to clean the sullied space. Every now and then, I'd look over at him, a small smile gracing my countenance as we attempted to make quick work of what was to be a laborious task. We'd even gone as far as making a game out of it, seeing who could clean up the most in the shortest amount of time. The loser had to take an eight-second inhale inside one of Carlos's socks he'd left behind weeks ago._

_I never smelled anything more heinous._

* * *

Sherwood Rink eventually became a second home to me after that, endless pushing and prodding from the boys becoming my inspiration to try out the rough sport. In a matter of weeks, I transformed from apathetic spectator to seasoned player, scrimmages with the boys becoming part of my daily routine. The space had become my impartial ear, able to take the brunt of my anger without a single protest. It listened, it learned, hell, it even gave me reality checks when I needed them. It was everything I needed it to be, and more.

I greeted the place like a familiar friend upon my entry, lacing up the skates I rented with ease before joining the boys on the ice. I needed a minute to take it all in, my mind having to get used to being in a social setting. To say that it was more than a little daunting would have been an understatement. Thankfully, there weren't a lot of people there today, allowing me to fully sink into my time with the boys.

"Mia, over here!" James called, darting in front of Kendall in an attempt to make himself open. I glanced behind me, knowing that Carlos was on my tail before passing the puck to him, smiling as he made his way towards the goal. Logan's eyes had narrowed, stick poised defensively in his hand, just waiting for him to shoot. James slapped the puck, only to groan as Logan blocked it, making both Kendall and Carlos cheer.

"Alright Logan!" Kendall called out, high-fiving Carlos.

"Damn, Logie, nothing gets past you!" I complimented, skating over to high five him. If it were anyone else, I would have been pissed, but with Logan, I could only be impressed. I'd forgotten how much the shy, awkward, boy had transformed on the ice, his agility rivaling even the most experienced of players. I loved how he held his stick with confidence, the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as he watched the puck, knowing full well he relied on physics to help him through the game. Ninety percent of the time, he was a wall of unstoppability, blocking just about every shot that came his way. To him, scrimmage games-much like the ones we were playing-were just target practice. He saved his best moves for the big leagues, or when he wanted to show off. Whichever came first.

"Just call me The Loganator!" he replied, his voice dropping more than a few decibels. He flexed his muscles, making a few gladiator poses before gasping, hearing the familiar _swish_ that came with the puck hitting the net. He looked up, glaring as he noticed Kendall skating innocently around the ice, twirling his stick casually.

"You were saying, Loganator?" Kendall asked casually, the signature Knight smirk adorning his features. Both James and Carlos stifled snickers, while I chose to smile in amusement, despite my instincts. Even I wasn't immune to Knight family humor.

"It's okay, Logie. Just remind him that James and I are beating him by two points, and he'll get off of his high horse," I said, staring directly at Kendall. He skated over to me, his helmeted head touching my own, clutching his stick in defense.

"Are you trying to say something, Giordano?" he asked, his eyes contracting.

"I'm saying, that James and I are kicking your ass, and you can't handle it," I replied, poking his chest upon saying the word 'you.' "At least Carlos is playing with grace."

"Grace, huh? You weren't saying that five minutes ago when he accidentally checked you into the boards," he retorted, knocking his helmet slightly against mine. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone swear that much."

"Accidentally being the key word in that sentence, Knight. Besides, it was a good check. Got him the scoring point, didn't it?"

"True, but that doesn't change the fact that you called him a fucker and chased him around with your stick!"

"Alright, alright. Let's just calm down," Logan said, skating over to us. "We still have an hour before the place goes to the youth hockey league, so can we please try to get some more time in before we have to leave?"

"Yeah! I don't want to get beaten up by six-year-olds again," Carlos added, pouting.

"Those children are _merciless_!" James said, his voice dropping at least two octaves. He then shivered, his fingers wrapping tightly around his stick out of fear. I giggled, moving over to pat him on the shoulder reassuringly.

"It's alright, Jamie. No six-year-olds are going to mess up your perfect hair," I replied, eliciting a smile from the taller boy.

"They better not. It takes a_ lot_ of deep conditioning to get it to look like this!" he shouted, stomping his foot slightly against the ice. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused by his behavior. Was this really who James had become? I studied him, gasping as I realized exactly how serious he was, based on his body language alone. For a second, I wondered if the James I knew from childhood had disappeared completely, only to be replaced by someone maligned by change. I hadn't had too much time to think about it, as the game had begun again, Logan's shouting jarring me back to reality in a matter of seconds.

We were playing our own version of hockey, James and I switching back and forth between offense and defense, depending on the scoring. Due to the fact that he had missed, we were now on defense, our eyes locked on Kendall as he made his way down the rink, the puck moving seamlessly in time with his stick. I looked over at James, waiting for his cue for me to move. A slight up-nod propelled me into motion, stealing the item within seconds before passing it to James, trying to out-skate a shell-shocked Kendall, who was determined to block me. Carlos had become an excellent defensive player, his erratic-yet necessary-movements making it harder for James to score. I continued to elude Knight, knowing that James was about to succumb to Carlos's stronghold, grinning as he passed me the disc. I headed straight for the goal, managing to fake out Logan before jumping as I watched it hit the back of the net, stretching the material out slightly.

Before long, I felt James's body make contact with my own, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. I smiled at the contact, the action alone making me worry less about whether or not he had changed. Maybe there was still old James in there, tucked away underneath the vanity. I exhaled as I felt my skates touch the ice, promptly observing the other players. Carlos, although faintly disappointed, beamed in my direction, shooting me his trademark smile. Logan shared a similar look, though I could tell that he was more impressed with the fact that I'd actually gotten past his stronghold. Kendall was unreadable, his expression stoic as his eye bored into my own. I looked away, unable to handle the intense gaze, my mind searching frantically for the meaning behind it all.

The others instantly noticed the tension, Logan moving in front of Kendall to lower his stick, saying, "Maybe…we should go. It's already almost 5, and we need to be out of here soon." Three of us nodded, the other still in their trance as we skated towards the exit, antipathy swirling over our heads. We stripped ourselves of our gear once we reached the benches, stowing them away along with our skates.

I took my time lacing my shoes, glancing at the blonde, curiosity getting the better of me. The four of us could feel that something was wrong, something that extended beyond the sport, into much deeper territory.

One that involved me.

"Dude, are you alright?" Carlos asked, finally speaking up.

Kendall grunted, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder as he replied, "I'm fine." He got up from the bench, scanning the four of us before targeting my own, the intense penetration making me uncomfortable. "What are we doing now?"

"W-Well, we promised Mia that we'd take her to do something she wanted to afterwards, so I guess it's up to her now," Logan answered for me, shrugging. James and Carlos looked in my direction, curiosity painting their countenances. I continued to move awkwardly against the bench, hating how all eyes were literally on _me_.

There wasn't anything I hated more than attention.

"I-I-I was actually hoping that we'd just go to The Dive In," I responded, wringing my hands. "That is, if you guys want to."

"Wait a minute, you scared us into thinking that we were going to do some girly thing when you just wanted to _eat_?" Carlos asked, incredulous. I smiled sheepishly before laughing seconds later as he leaped into the air. "Sweet! I thought I was gonna have to try on a dress or something!"

"Well, the day's still young," I joked, smiling broadly. I stifled another giggle as Carlos's expression hastily turned into one of horror, much to the other's amusement. "I'm kidding, Carlitos! Though you would look quite fetching in a dress."

"I can see him in a polka-dotted number," Logan mused, tapping his index finger against his chin. Four confused stares followed his statement, the brunette's cheeks flushing as he realized the severity of his words. "I-I was just saying! It's not like I've extensively thought about it or anything!" James promptly got up from the bench, extending his hand for me to do the same.

"On that note, let's go to the diner!" I took it, nodding my thanks as I grabbed my own bag and hoisted it over my shoulder. My hand never left James's, my fingers loosely clasped over his as we waited for Logan and Carlos to finish packing. It wasn't long before we were in motion, heading towards the exit, my head turning to look at the troubled blonde behind me. His lips had curled into what would have been a smile, had it not been for the fact that he'd spotted our entwining fingers. He hastened his pace, moving past both James's and I, much to James's confusion. I let go of his hand, choosing to instead to have it curl around the strap of my duffel, inexplicable guilt washing over my frame. I didn't understand; it was just innocent contact, yet I found myself turning scarlet over it all, worried for the fast-paced blonde. My stomach twisted at the idea alone, the need to hasten my movements to catch up to him, to explain the reasoning behind my actions. It had been so easy to push Kendall out before, but now that I was with the boys, my old instincts had resurfaced, to be around the four men that defined my childhood-defined _me_.

I stopped walking, three remaining sets of eyes darting back and forth between myself and Kendall, who stopped once he'd reached the doors. I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn't know what to tell them; if there was anything _to_ tell.

"Alright, what's going on here?" James asked, his look changing from puzzlement to concern.

"Nothing. I just, I think that this is too much for one day," I lied, not wanting to discuss the friction that had developed between myself and Kendall. "I want to go home."

"No," Kendall piped up, anger lacing his tone. "You wanted to go out, so we're going out."

"Kendall, I-" Logan started to say, his words cut down instantly.

"No, Logan. I know when she's lying. She's just trying to avoid me. But she can't do it forever. _**We're going to have to talk eventually**_," he said, staring daggers into my direction.

"You're really going to do this _here_? In front of our _friends_?" I shouted, finding the strength that I needed.

"Friends? I'm pretty sure that the last time we talked, you were considering them to be anything but," Kendall argued, starting to advance towards me.

"No, you have no right to use that conversation against me. I wouldn't have said that if you hadn't implied that every. single. one. of them had given up on me!" I protested. "I believe it was you shutting the fucking door in my face when I needed you, NOT them, so don't you dare, for a second, think that you can just use them without a fight, Kendall."

"Considering that fighting is the only way I get to talk to you right now, I'll take it," he replied, his words shattering my resolve. I pushed past him, making my way outside into the cool, Minnesota summer, wishing once again, that I was alone.

It just wasn't fair.

* * *

The ride was silent, though the cramped space was filled with questions, most of which neither Kendall, nor myself knew the answer to. The boys had tried to get us to explain our conflict, bent on squashing whatever it was that stopped us from being the quintet we once were. However, we refused to speak. We knew that the conflict was bigger than us, yet we were the only ones that could solve it. And while Kendall was up for reconciliation, I wasn't. I wanted to pretend that that night didn't exist, that it didn't set everything in motion, that it wasn't responsible for my current state of mind.

I knew why Kendall was trying to claw his way back into my life; it was out of guilt. A waste of emotion, something that I didn't want to associate myself with, regardless of the fact that it had invaded my entire being. I rested my head against the car window, closing my eyes as I endeavored to make sense of the life I had been forced to adjust to. I felt a hand encase my own, instinct causing me to snatch it away from its captor. I didn't want comfort; it was a waste of a gesture, a socially acceptable sign of weakness. I didn't need anyone to prop me up; I had been doing it on my own for years without assistance, a fact that I wore proudly with every move I made, regardless of the outcome.

As long as I survived.

James glanced at me, sadness manifested in his expression. Remorse steadily rose up my frame as I turned my attention to the glass before me, visions of small town life whizzing by. I hungered for the acceleration, the ability to just bypass it all and end up exactly where I wanted to be. It was a shame that life didn't grant us those joys, making us live out every agonizing moment with a soulless grin.

I hadn't noticed our destination until we stopped, my mind too caught up in its own mechanisms to pay attention to the landscape. I observed the area, blinking in confusion as I noticed that we had pulled into the Knight home. The other boys shared my expression, aside from Kendall, whose eyes were transfixed on the garage door.

"Um, Kendall? W-weren't we supposed to go to the diner?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah, but I want to talk to Mia alone. James, can you drive Logan and Carlos home?" Kendall replied, turning to look at the boy in question. James nodded, glancing at me before he left the vehicle, hoping for some sort of reaction. I sat there, quiet, trying to will my mind to protest, but the words died in my throat.

"Call us, okay?" Logan said, though I knew those words were more meant for me than Kendall. He patted me on the shoulder before slipping a small piece of paper into my palm and exiting without another word. I looked down at my hand, taking in the brunette's clean, clinical scrawl as I committed the number to memory. Even after all of these years, Logan was still protecting me. The idea alone caused me to blink back tears, wondering how I'd gotten so soft in such a short amount of time. Fighting was going to be even more difficult than I imagined, yet a part of me wanted to give in, to let him keep me safe. I pictured myself tucked away, pale arms enveloping my frame as I, we, battled the world. Together.

I concealed the paper inside of my back pocket, instinct telling me that someday, I'd find use for it. I reached downward to unbuckle my seat belt when the car started, the deafening noise causing me to jump in my seat, my heart all but slamming into my chest.

"What the fuck, Knight?" I shouted, attempting to strike him, only to be child-locked by the belt. I groaned, resigning to the restriction as Kendall backed out of the driveway, leaving three best friends behind.

"Relax, Mia. I'm not going to kill you. I'm just gonna take you somewhere, that's all," Kendall replied, pulling onto the main road.

"Oh no you're not! The last place I want to be right now is stuck here with you, so please, spare me whatever the fuck you've got brewing in that skull of yours and take me home, please," I retorted, tugging at my seat belt. Kendall smiled as he realized that I'd referred to his house as 'home,' as if it were a sign of comfortability. To me, it was simple logic at work; my parents had died, and now, I had taken up residence with my godmother and her children. It was basic transference of power. Mrs. Knight was now my legal guardian, thus making her home, my home. There was no emotional attachment, nor did I want there to be. This, much like every other aspect of my life, was only temporary, and I saw no reason to hold on to the intangible.

"We're going home, after I take you there. I promise, it isn't going to be anything bad. You actually might like it," Kendall said, his eyes flashing to the rearview to glance at me. A smirk had played upon his lips again, this time accompanied by a bushy eyebrow, jutting upward towards the heavens. I turned away from the sight, closing my eyes and getting lost in the darkness; the only place that made sense.

* * *

Ten minutes later, we pulled up to the side of the road, the blonde getting out the car while I stayed intact in my seat. The area surrounding us seemed familiar, the ghosts of my past more than ready to come out of their graves, haunting my every thought. I froze, gripping the handle on the passenger side door as he waited for me, leaning up against the metal. My mind raced as I tried to figure out _why_ I had such apprehension, knowing that it stemmed from more than just nervousness. It ran deeper than that, threatening to delve into waters I hadn't touched in years. Kendall knocked on the glass, motioning for me to climb out, beginning to walk forward. Against my better judgement, I followed, catching up to the blonde in a matter of moments.

"Why are we here?" I asked, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my jeans as we approached a wooded area.

"You don't remember this place?" Kendall asked, taken aback by my words.

"No," I responded, feeling somewhat guilty for my words. I felt as if I _should have_ remembered, intuition alone telling me that this place held a fair amount of significance, despite the fact that I wasn't sure why. My mind was teetering on the edge, torn between submerging itself into the encroaching memory or abandoning it completely. Kendall continued to walk, his expression downcast as we made our way through the woods, twigs snapping underneath our feet. It was then that I saw it.

Dilapidated, but somehow still standing was the very symbol of my childhood. I gasped, staring at the structure before my eyes moved to the blonde beside me. His countenance had curled into a smile, his hands placed gently on my back as he pushed me towards it. Too overwhelmed to protest, I stepped forward, tracing my fingers lightly over the wood before opening the doors, my eyes threatening to fill with tears.

Everything was still the same.

I sat down on one of the benches inside, ignoring the small cloud of dust that had billowed around me. I remembered how Kendall and I used to spend hours just _cleaning_ this place, coming up with elaborate lies as we worked, upon noticing the dirt that had accumulated on our bodies. We wanted it to be our secret, an area that we could call our own, just the two of us.

We'd gone through what Mrs. Knight called our 'explorer phase,' when we were obsessed with discovery after learning about wild animals at school. We'd spend hours in his living room, surveying the space from top to bottom, searching for animals. This usually resulted in us messing up the room completely, as we'd gotten a little too into our adventures, using any movable object to either hide behind or defend ourselves from animals. We even went as far as building a makeshift tent, an endeavor that required at least four blankets, and three dining room chairs, among other things. It was then that Mrs. Knight decided that our skills were best suited for outside play and relegated us to the backyard while she tried to make sense of the disarray we left behind.

Two hours later, we sat down on the porch, boredom all but seeping out of our skulls. We wanted a _new_ place to uncover, however, because of our previous actions, Mrs. Knight refused to drive us anywhere, forcing us to make due with what we had. I swung my legs back and forth, trying to think of something for us to do, when Kendall grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward.

_"What are you doing?" I asked before he clapped a hand over my mouth._

_"Shh! My mom thinks that we're going to Carlos's house!" he hissed, pulling me towards the front of the house. I licked his hand, causing him to squirm, removing it from my lips. "Gross!"_

_"Where are we going, Kendall? And how did you get your mom to agree to let us go to 'Carlos's?'" I queried, making quotations with my free hand._

_"I have my ways," he answered vaguely, his hand moving from my wrist to entwine with my own. He swung them back and forth, just as he always did whenever we were together. _

_"You didn't answer my other question," I pointed out, raising an eyebrow at my friend._

_"You want to explore, right?" he deflected, smiling. I nodded, though I wasn't entirely seeing where the conversation was going. "Then trust me. You're gonna love this, guaranteed."_

_"And if I don't?"_

_"I promise to, um, play Barbies with you and Katie for a whole week!" I squeezed our cupped hands, grinning wildly. _

_"Deal."_

I took in the space once the dust settled, recollecting all the hours we spent in here playing, eating snacks, investigating the land surrounding us. It was where we made sense of the world, dissecting every aspect before putting it back together in ways we could understand. It was these bits that we took back to the boys, making our unit that much stronger. At first, we felt guilty for having it, for feeling the need to have a place of our own, then we realized it was necessary. Our connection was different; it always had been, and always would be. Although we agreed that we worked best as a team, there were times when we yearned to be separated, to break our routines. They never lasted long-the overwhelming desire to be a quintet again often became too much for us to bear-but every time, we came back with new stories, building memories that we would never forget.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked quietly, afraid that the weight of my words would collapse the structure. It was the final manifestation of our friendship. Even though I was no longer friends with the blonde, I wasn't naive enough to deny our history. There were some things, regardless of the circumstances, that should be preserved. Our relationship happened to be one of them.

"I just wanted to remind you of what we had before you moved away," he replied, sitting across from me. "You're my best friend, Mia. You always have been, and you know that. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you and Aunt Sophia, I should have. Things would have been different if I had listened to you that night, and I know that now. I shouldn't have doubted you, but I did. I can't take that back, but I can try to fix what we have now." He paused, gesturing towards the various decorations we put up over the years, holding a cacophony of memories. I steadied myself, the sudden flood throwing me off balance, as emotions began to battle in the pit of my stomach. As much as I missed being friends with Kendall, I knew that I couldn't let him back into my life. He abandoned me, and that wasn't something that I could let go. I trusted him more than anyone, more than my _mother_, and he betrayed me. He lost _faith_ in me. And now there he was, using a childhood landmark as a bargaining chip.

He disgusted me.

"We don't **have** anything to fix!" I yelled, slamming my hands against the wood. "When are you going to realize this? You gave all of this up when you fucking turned me away, **consciously**, I might add." I got up, brushing the dust off of my jeans, clapping the excess off of my hands.

"You know what? I'm fucking sick of you throwing that in my face!" Kendall started to say, getting up as well. "I'm fucking sorry, Mia, alright? I made a mistake, I know this, and you're not even **trying** to let me make it right! You're just writing everything off, and making me out to be some kind of monster, when you know I'm not. I'm still the same guy you knew before you left, Mia. I haven't changed. I think that somewhere, deep down, you might know that. You just don't want to see it."

"There's nothing_ to _see," I countered, refusing to show how much his words had affected me. I shifted uncomfortably, frantically searching for something that would provide me the comfort I was desperate for; but I could only reminisce. Kendall Knight was gradually breaking my resolve, my determination to file him underneath the lengthy list of people I could no longer count on. I wanted to believe that our friendship was over, but as I stood there, I knew that as long as he was still standing, he would fight for it.

I couldn't afford to lose.

Kendall smiled condescendingly, shaking his head as he geared up to speak. "I think we both know that's not true," he said. "I'm not giving up, Mia. Just look around. You can't tell me that you don't miss this."

I chewed on my bottom lip, scrambling for a response. He was right, I did miss it. I missed everything. But I wasn't going to admit it. Life without Kendall Knight was easier when he wasn't standing in front of you, challenging your every action. He made it more than clear two years ago that he hadn't wanted me in his life, and if I were being honest, I hadn't exactly given him a reason to.

I sat back down on the bench, staying silent as I studied the wood. Kendall played the guitar for the first time on it, with an unparalleled concentration that put other musicians to shame. I could still hear the tune, and often hummed it by heart whenever I needed to smile, or just missed the golden-haired boy in general. I felt so special when he played for me; I was the first person other than his teacher to hear the music, and the fact that I was the one he wanted to turn to, stayed with me.

I couldn't believe that I had pushed it away.

I got up, no longer able to handle being in the structure, ignoring the blonde's calls as I made my way out, needing to be as far away from it as possible. I couldn't believe I let myself become so intoxicated with the past; I wasn't that little girl anymore, and I never would be again. I hated how easily she seemed to resurface, as if she'd been waiting for the right cue to emerge, overtaking my body completely.

She wasn't going to win that easily.


	3. Chapter 3: Turmoil

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been over a month, but I am here, haha! Not entirely happy with this chapter, but I am going to...for now...chalk it up to me being a weirdo. But feedback/reviews are ALWAYS welcome, so please do not be shy to leave me one. Anonymous reviews ARE enabled, btw, so let me know what you think! I am gonna TRY to post at least once a week here, so that the story is updated more frequently, I don't want to leave you guys hanging for 30 days at a time! Not cool! Anyway, thank you to those of you who have reviewed/visited! I appreciate you all so very much! You make my entire world go 'round. Seriously! **

**Thank you to my usual suspects for helping me out. You guys totally rock, seriously. What would I do without you guys?**

**Anyway, onto chapter three! **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own BTR. I do own my OC Mia, as well as any others therein. **

* * *

_Chapter 3: Turmoil_

* * *

Elizabeth Knight and Sophia Giordano were meant to be friends.

They had met in second grade, Sophia, a seasoned veteran while Elizabeth was the new girl, her red hair bouncing enthusiastically as she talked. Sophia hadn't really been listening; she was far too busy doodling to notice the pale-skinned girl until she sat down next to her, extending a hand across her desk, blocking her work. She gave her a look, wondering if the gesture was feigned or genuine, as she had been less than popular with her peers. Sophia was quiet, almost overly so, only speaking when she was spoken to, preferring to be invisible.

Too bad her behavior caused her to be anything _but_.

The more socially advanced children in her class had interpreted her silence as weakness, and had begun to tease her at every opportunity, knowing she was too frail to fight back. Their actions had only caused her to curl into herself even more, hoping that the more she hid, the more bored they would become, and would eventually leave her alone.

That hadn't happened.

A few of them had even gone as far as befriending her just for their own amusement, reporting her actions back to their peers, fueling their resolve to break her. Though the redhead was new, Sophia still didn't trust her; it would only be a matter of time before their peers brainwashed her, making her out to be the enemy. She shrugged off her hand, going back to her intricate doodling when she whispered:

"Are you shy?"

Sophia looked at her skeptically, wondering why this seemingly nice girl wanted anything to do with her.

"There's no need to be shy," she continued, placing her hand on top of Sophia's. The gesture was warm and benevolent, much like the girl herself. She didn't know why, but Sophia felt safe around her, as if she could trust her. A smile began to grow on her face as she mentioned her name, Elizabeth. "I hate that though, so you can call me Liz! Or Lizzie if you want. That's what my dad calls me!"

"Sophia," she replied, swinging her legs underneath her desk. Elizabeth returned her smile, the gesture only growing as Sophia placed her Language Arts textbook between them so that they could share. The pair whispered to each other, passing notes whenever their teacher caught wind of their subdued tones, swapping information back and forth throughout the lesson. They hadn't known each other very long, but they knew that their connection was special; something you could find only a few times in life, if at all.

Over time, their relationship grew, changing their lives both in and out of school. Elizabeth helped her stand up to her tormentors, effectively ending their seemingly reign of terror, while Sophia made her adjustment easier, showing her the ins and outs of small town life. It was these moments that they cherished the most; just being together without neither care nor consequence. Sophia had always stated that Elizabeth knew her better than anyone else, picking up on emotions before she, herself had begun to feel them. The pair intertwined so beautifully that it was almost impossible to see one without the other, both physically, as well as spiritually.

Their kinship would only become stronger throughout the years, extending into both middle and high school, plateauing slightly during college due to distance. The two had taken to exchanging letters during this period, saving the 15th of every month to send care packages filled to the brim with artifacts from their adventures in university.

Through Elizabeth, Sophia learned to shed her introversion, exchanging it for the more outgoing persona she reserved solely for her. The redhead gave her confidence, providing her the stability she needed in order to change. As long as she was in her corner, Sophia felt as if she could do anything.

Except escape.

* * *

My fingertips traced over the small section of college-ruled paper, my vision all but blurring as my eyes moved over the script for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

_Logan_

_555-4124_

I glanced over at the cordless phone beside me, hating how calmly it seemed to sit, as if it were _waiting_ for me to pick it up, knowing that at any second, I would break and talk to him. I was tempted to swipe it off of the space completely, a sly grin embracing my countenance as I'd watch it shatter. But I couldn't do that. Everyone had begun circling me ever since that day at the rink, Mrs. Knight somehow catching wind of the fight Kendall and I had just a week ago. I'd barely spoken to anyone since; save for idle conversation and obligatory pleasantries. I was alone, and wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way, preserving the distance that kept me safe.

I curled my fingers, ready to crumple the scrap in my hand, when something stopped me. I swallowed, trying to push it down, to will it away, only for it to rise once more. I threw the paper down, watching as it aimlessly floated down to the floor, wondering when I'd acquired the sense of longing that had plagued me over the last few days. I didn't want to _need_, I wanted to _push_-push past the sorrow and onto a new life, a new _world_ where none of the weight I carried existed.

A world where she would be alive.

Footsteps echoed throughout the Knight home, my mind able to tell by the pattern alone that they belonged to him, the boy I hadn't spoken to in a week's time. I heard his voice float through the hall as he called out for his mother, his sister, and then…me.

I bit down on my bottom lip, shifting my weight on the bright, cotton bedding I had yet to get used to, attempting to silence the small part of being that wanted to respond. I knew Mrs. Knight had asked him what happened, sighing involuntarily with relief as he replied nonchalantly with, 'nothing.' I'd taken my ear away from the door as she pressed him, wanting nothing more than to work out the conflict that had arisen between her son and niece. Kendall had almost broken me that night; opening the floodgates of emotion that had long since threatened to break, scaring me completely. I didn't understand how he could have gotten through to me so quickly, how he had so much _power_ over me. My breath quickened at the thought of someone controlling literally every part of my being, rebellion meaning little to nothing.

He had avoided me ever since; choosing to give me space once he realized that he was hitting me with too much, too soon. I'd never been more grateful for his lack of presence in my life, though that hadn't stopped me from looking over some of the older journals from my childhood; smiling at the various photos that had all but littered the tattered space, remembering how keen I used to be about capturing every aspect of my life. My obsession began in the 1st grade, after spotting my mother on her bed, scribbling into a leather-bound book, the ballpoint pen scratching rhythmically against the paper.

_"Mom, what are you doing?" I asked, hopping onto the bed, taking in the scent of both my mother, and the fabric softener that exuded from the sheets. She chuckled, placing both the book as well as the pen onto the pillow next to her, wrapping an arm around my shoulders before kissing the top of my head._

_"Well, I __**was**__ writing in my journal, until __**someone**__ interrupted me," she responded, tickling my sides._

_I giggled, settling into her before tilting my head upwards, asking, "What do you write about, mommy?"_

_"I dunno, Mia, whatever I want, really. Life, short stories, poetry. Whatever crosses my mind. I've been writing since I was six. My grandmother, your," she paused, pressing her index finger against the tip of my nose, "great-grandmother, always kept scrapbooks, and they spanned her entire life. It was amazing, the things that she kept. Things that even I forgot about. I wanted to do the same thing, but with words, you know? I didn't want just pictures, I wanted to tell the stories that accompanied them. So I did." _

_"You put everything in one big journal? Can I see?" I asked excitedly, bouncing up and down the bed. She laughed, ruffling my hair as she shook her head. _

_"Not exactly. I have a bunch of little ones, like this," she said, bringing the notebook back into view. "This one is a bit more on the plain side, but I have ones with all sorts of art on the front, a lot of which I did myself. Some are just composition books, and some are diaries, with locks and keys. Which only I and your Aunt Liz know the whereabouts to, so don't even try snooping in my room again with Kendall and Carlos."_

_"How did you know about that?" I asked, before covering my mouth. If I wasn't dead before, I would have definitely been now._

_"I found a half-eaten corn dog in my closet last week," she answered as she crossed her arms over her chest playfully._

_"He was still eating that? Ugh, I told him to put it away!" I shouted, pouting. "We were on a spy mission, you don't eat corn dogs during spy missions!" _

_My mother chuckled, holding me closer to her before pulling me into her lap, whispering, "Honey, if you don't know Carlos Garcia's penchant for food by now, you will never know him. Why do you think I keep extra pudding in the pantry?" It was my turn to laugh this time, remembering how the boys seemed to blow through it like no other. _

_"But seriously, mom, can I see your journals?" I queried, jumping off of the bed so that i could get down on my knees, lacing my fingers before lifting my arms towards the heavens. "Pleeease?" _

_"Alright, munchkin. On one condition, you don't show anyone what's inside, and I mean __**anyone**__. Not even Kendall without my permission, okay? You are allowed to tell their general existence, but nothing more, got it?" she said, holding out her pinky for me to take. I linked it with my own, grinning wildly as we pressed our foreheads together, just as we always did whenever we made promises to each other._

_"I got it!" I replied, before pulling her into a hug. _

That day, she showed me every single journal she'd ever written in, going over each page with such precision, that it made me wonder if she even _needed_ to chronicle everything; clearly, her memory was still intact. It was then that she explained that it wasn't so much about preserving memories as it was cherishing them, cultivating them into something creative, something you could pass onto future generations.

She also used them as a release, to clear the 'white noise' that traveled throughout her mind, though she made a point to separate the two. Those were the ones that she refused to let me see, claiming that the content was 'too mature' for my young eyes. To this day, I haven't looked inside of them, too afraid to see the personal demons that lie between the pages. The temptation was there, the wonder if hers were even remotely similar to my own. I imagined them dancing above my head, co-mingling before converging into one, placing her burdens atop of my own.

The sound of Kendall's footsteps broke me out of my thoughts, causing me to gasp, hoping that he somehow hadn't been alerted of my presence. My breath released upon realizing that he was simply descending the stairs, leaving me off the hook, once again. I laid back onto my bed, turning my head to the side, my eyes locked on that familiar sheet of paper once again. It had a silent, almost ghostly rhetoric, consistently making its presence known regardless of whether I liked it or not.

I could feel myself succumbing to it, snatching the paper from the floor before I had a chance to think before grabbing the phone, dialing the seven digits that would hopefully lead to my temporary freedom.

"Hi, Logan? I-It's me, Mia."

* * *

"I have to admit, after the third day, I didn't think that you would actually call me," Logan said as we walked through the park just minutes away from the Knight home. Childhood memories surrounded us as we walked, the two of us pretending not to notice the nostalgia, despite its palpability.

"You say that like we're dating, Mitchell," I teased, nudging his shoulder. I took in the fresh air, greeting it as if it were a familiar friend. I never thought I would be so…elated to be in a public place, enjoying surroundings that weren't shielded by painted walls and hardwood floors.

"Well, I-I mean, you know what I mean!" he stammered, blushing slightly. I grinned at the sight, unable to help myself. My hands instinctively slid into my pockets, all but burrowing themselves into the fabric as I attempted to stave off an impulse to move closer to him, missing the intimate-but platonic, contact.

"Do I?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I laughed as I watched his countenance contort into a sea of expressions, all of them a cross between discomfort and confusion.

He was still easy after all of these years.

"I am just kidding, Logie! Relax!" I assured, quickly patting him on the shoulder. He relaxed, his classic crooked smile painting his features once more.

"Oh, haha. I knew that!" he replied, running his hands down his abdomen to smooth out his vest. "I _really_ need to start remembering how much you like to tease."

"I am offended that you even tried to forget me!" I exclaimed, shaking my head.

"Whatever. Like I could really forget about you, Mimi. You should know how much we all have missed you," he said, frowning slightly. "And…have been worried about you."

I pursed my lips, my fingers curling into fists as I attempted to control myself. Worry was a word that I had refused to acknowledge, yet continued to follow my every action, slipping its way into everyday life.

"I'm fine, Logan," I said succinctly, looking away from him.

"You're not, Mia," he replied, his tone soft. "But I'm not going to force you to talk about it. Whenever you're ready, I'm here. And whatever is said between us will stay there, I promise." I wasn't sure what to say, if there was anything _to_ say. I was shocked at the amount of space people had given me to cope; hoping that someday, sometime, I would come around. I almost felt sorry for them, knowing full well that I had every intention of pushing through with my internalization, regardless of where it lead me. The only person I needed to "talk to" was myself. I was sure of it.

Almost.

"Thanks, Logan, but I'm alright. It's just something that I need to get over, you know?" I said, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible. It was easier said than done. He nodded, though it was obvious by the look on his face alone that he hadn't believed me, instantly seeing through my behavior.

"Well, like I said, whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here," he replied, sighing slightly. "Though there has been something on my mind lately that I wanted to um, touch base with you about, if you'll let me. I promise, it has nothing to do with our previous conversation." I eyed him suspiciously, wondering whether or not to take the bait. I'd come here to escape, much like I had only a week ago before Kendall had destroyed my bliss, opening wounds that had never gotten a chance to heal. I was hoping that Logan wouldn't do the same, wouldn't force me to talk about things that I had barely begun to swallow.

I couldn't take it if he had turned into Kendall.

"Okay," I said, involuntarily, the word moving past my lips before I had even begun to think about the consequences. "What is it?"

"I-Is it true that Kendall told you that we didn't care about you? That we weren't your friends?" he asked, his fingers fumbling in his lap.

I hesitated, crossing my legs at my ankles as I looked down at the stone path in front of us, unsure of what to say. Defending Kendall Knight was not exactly number one on my bucket list, yet the words seemed to escape from my mouth almost effortlessly, as if the gap between us hadn't existed.

"Y-Yes," I started to say, shifting my body more towards Logan's as his face fell, the sight all but breaking my heart. "But he was really angry with me, Logan. He didn't mean it. I know how much you guys care about me. Or at least, used to."

Logan retracted, almost as if I'd slapped him in the face with my words, spitting out harshly, "We do care about you, Mia. I mean, yes, you not talking to us hurt us, a lot, but we never stopped caring. You're our best friend, all of ours. You should know that. We don't abandon each other." He stared at me intently as he said this, making sure that his words sunk in; or at least, had begun to.

"I didn't have a choice! Not talking to you guys, I mean. I-I was afraid," I admitted, regretting the words the second they escaped. I shifted away from him, moving to get up from the bench when he grabbed my hand, forcing me back down.

"What do you mean, 'you didn't have a choice?'" he queried, his eyes narrowing in anger. "What happened while you were away, Mia? Who threatened you?"

"It's nothing, Logie. Just _please_, drop it," I pleaded, knowing full well that he wouldn't. I'd opened way too big a door-it would be a miracle if I came out of it unscathed by the past. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Mia…" Logan began to say, before I interjected, truncating his words.

"No, Logan," I insisted. "I called you because I wanted to get my mind off of everything, not talk about it. If you're not okay with that, you can leave. I don't have time for this right now. I can always find someone else to escape with." I gripped the bench tightly, hoping that he hadn't seen through my lie. Truth be told, Logan was the only person I trusted completely at the moment, despite my outburst. He had been my confidant since that fateful day in Kindergarten, constantly guarding me from what he deemed to be the "dangers of the world."

Although he wasn't as abrasive as the other boys, he was just as strong, conveying disdain through more subtle mediums. His favorite was verbal, using his gentle, reliable demeanor to both console, as well as reprimand me. Most of the time, he was my impartial ear, taking in my every word with a vigor that rivaled even the most resilient of men. In return, I provided much of the same, even going as far as defending him occasionally whenever he refused to take part in one of the boys' schemes, which more often than not, worked in our favor. There had been many a time when we had been forced to come up with schemes of our own to spring them out of the hell they were thrust into after their plans went off without a hitch…only to have grave consequences.

Our favorite part of it all was the scheming, working together in 'the brain center,' or Logan's basement, conjuring various plans of attack over the snacks Mrs. Mitchell often left in the kitchen. We'd spend hours laughing, debating how the others were handling detention, doing motley impressions of each one. Over time, we'd developed multiple contingency plans, each one documented in a spiral notebook, hidden in the center. Only Logan and myself knew where it was hidden, as well as the numerous carbon-copies we kept in our possessions at all times.

It never hurt to be prepared.

I glanced at Logan, wondering if he were still the boy I could count on; the one who kept me steady and sane. Most people would have found Logan's clerical tendencies to be annoying; but I saw them as normal. Welcomed, even. Unbeknownst to him, he had unwittingly taken on a somewhat parental role in my life, making sure I had all of my homework done, checking over the answers even though I was just as academically on par, assisting me when needed. He epitomized stability, something I desperately wanted, and needed, in my life.

He got up from the bench, extending his hand so that I could follow suit.

"Come on, I know somewhere we can go," he said, linking our arms as I rose up to meet him.

* * *

"Ice cream? Seriously?" I asked as I slid into the booth, glancing downward at the colorful menu before me.

"What? It's the safest place I can think of. Besides, you _know_ you want some," he said, smirking as he picked up his own. He held it up, pointing at a particularly large sundae, his smirk quickly turning into a grin as he added, "Best sundaes in the county!"

"Fine," I replied, laughing. "But only because a) I love you, and b) because that sundae really does look good."

"See? Kendall isn't the only one with the power of persuasion," he said, before looking down, realizing what he had done. "I'm sorry, Mia. I know you wanted to escape and I just…I forgot you guys were fighting and-"

"Logan, _relax_!" I laughed, flicking a sugar packet in his direction. "It's fine. You…taking me out for ice cream is actually pretty cool, and very sweet." He smiled, the sight alone making me want to mirror one of my own.

"Well, now that you're back in my life, it's only fair that I show you the finer parts of Sherwood," he replied, pushing his menu aside. "Besides, ice cream is pretty much foolproof, everyone loves it."

"You do make a point, though you _do_ remember that I used to live here, right?" I joked, poking him in the shoulder.

"Yes…but a lot has changed since you left. For example, did you know that there is now an observatory next to where the old gas station used to be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They have an observatory? Sherwood really has moved up, hasn't it?" I laughed, shaking my head. "You do realize that you're going to have to show me that, right?"

"Wow. You know what? You're the first person who has actually wanted to go with me to the observatory. Well, besides Carlos, but there's _no way_ I am going to let him anywhere near there, I'm still mad that he got us banned from the science center," he grumbled as he placed his arms onto the table. "And they just had an exhibit on Venus!"

"I remember the first time we even went to the science center. We had to stop Carlos from trying to ride the T-Rex they had in there," I recalled, giggling. He grinned, unable to help but laugh as well, nostalgia resting happily on his countenance. I felt myself relax; I hated seeing Logan upset, even if it was over the smallest of things. I knew the memory would make him happy, despite the connotations it held for me.

"He was so convinced that it was real, it was hilarious!" he said, chuckling. "He was totally set on the idea that if he rode it, it would magically come alive and he would prove us wrong." I nodded, surveying the space for our waitress as I tried not to look back on that particular day. It was my mother who had taken us there, in an effort to give Mrs. Knight a much needed break from the five of us. We toured the entire space, spending at least an hour in each section, taking in the facts, figures and displays underneath her proud gaze. There were even interactive portions of the exhibit, much to Carlos'-and James'-amusement.

Riding the giant tyrannosaurus rex displayed in the center of the entrance was not one of them.

To his credit, it _had_ looked real, almost overly so, but that was kind of the point. Places like those counted on realism, a concept that Carlos hadn't seemed to realize yet. Every five minutes, my mother had to all but drag him away from the velvet ropes surrounding it, her fingers fisting around his collar as he tried to release himself from her grasp.

Logan had gotten a kick out of watching him squirm.

It wasn't long before our waitress came over, asking for our orders. Logan looked at me, grinning as he shot off our order, a 6-scoop mega sundae with chocolate and mint-chocolate chip ice cream with whipped cream, sprinkles, bananas, m&m, hot fudge, and four cherries. I stared at him, shocked as she walked away, covering my mouth as I fought off the urge to embrace him, pulling him into the tightest hug imaginable.

He remembered our sundae.

"Logie…" I whispered, smiling, leaning across the table and squeezing him tightly. He reciprocated instantly, holding me even closer, if that were possible.

"I thought you'd might like it," he replied, letting me go and retreating back to his seat. I ran my hand down my forearm as I tried to ignore the burning sensation inside of me, my mind plagued with the idea that I wasn't allowed to be happy, at least not without her. I wasn't sure how I lost my way so quickly, how I had transformed from being broken, to having the smallest of pieces reuniting on their own accord.

It was almost unnerving.

"God, I haven't had one of these since the night before I left," I admitted, tracing patterns onto the bright, glossy surface. I tried not to make eye contact with the brunette in front of me, as I willed my subconscious to stave off the memory, unsure if I could handle the night that would essentially be the beginning of the end. The boys and I always shared sundaes with each other, Logan and I piling ours high with simplicity, while Kendall and James chose to go with a more adventurous route, stating that it wasn't so much about the flavors themselves, as the toppings. Carlos had been exiled to making his own, either wanting to add too much, or too little too his creations to share. He'd usually taken to stockpiling just about every option on the menu, though that quickly fizzled out after a nasty case of diarrhea following the incident. He'd spent three hours in the bathroom, my mother by his side as he powered through, drying his tears before the four of us surrounded him, cradling him as we fell asleep together on the bathroom floor.

It made sense that my last evening in Sherwood took place there; it was where we crafted numerous memories, each one significant in their own right. We'd taken to spending our evenings there after one, or all, of us had some sort of victory, academic or otherwise. Over time, the space became our post-game home, duffel bags surrounding our booths as our spoons all but dug into the cold, yet creamy substance, rehashing the game, much to our parents' chagrin. Usually, such intense conversation had required more than a little gusto, resulting in either the spilling or flinging of the treat, depending on whether or not we were all on the same page. Or, just being silly.

"You really haven't had ice cream since then?" Logan asked, confused. I tried to ignore the sympathetic look that had begun to take over his features, his hand extending to take my own before retracting it, sensing my desire to remain untouched. It was better that way. I'd long since viewed myself as diseased, and no action was going to convince me otherwise, not even from someone as pure as Logan Mitchell.

"Yes," I answered, picking at a loose string from the white tee I was wearing. "I-It wasn't the same without you guys." A sad smile graced his countenance, inspirational words on the tip of his tongue when the sundae was placed onto the table, along with two spoons. I reached across the table, picking up the one closest to me, my eyes locked on anything but Logan. I dug in without a second thought, the flavors barely registering on my tongue as I ate, my subconscious only concerned with consuming just enough to be excused, aching for my sanctuary at the Knight's. I looked up to see Logan doing much of the same, his actions significantly less involuntary. I almost envied him.

I basked in the uncomfortable silence, getting lost in the familiar sensation, grateful for the sole moment of stability I'd experienced since moving back to Sherwood. I welcomed the memories, the shiver that went up my spine as the stillness began to register, my muscles tensing instinctively. The aspects that once defined my existence now only seemed to hinder it in this new world, yet I clung onto them tightly, appeasing the masochist in me that wanted nothing more than to drown in the change, just like my parents.

I pretended not to notice the troubled look on Logan's face as I continued to eat, knowing that he sensed my distress. I could tell by his body language alone that he was torn between bringing it up, and leaving me be. Every fiber of my being prayed for the latter, wanting nothing more than to focus on the chilled treat in front of me.

"Hey guys!" someone said, their upbeat tone making me cringe. It was almost too much of a contrast, their sunny demeanor with our sullen meal. I glanced up at them before dropping my spoon, my anxiety running high as my vision connected with the voice.

It was James.

"James? What are you doing here?" Logan asked, equally as perplexed as I was. Thank god I wasn't the only one.

"Oh, um, I'm with that girl over there," he answered, jabbing his thumb towards a skinny, long-haired blonde looking over the menu with the concentration one would save for logarithms. "I think her name is Sandy or Mandy, I'm not entirely sure…"

"You brought this girl on a date and you don't even know her name?" I found myself saying, my judgmental timbre surprising even myself.

"It really wasn't so much of a date, as it was a…casual get together, if you will," he retorted, flashing me his award winning smile. "Besides, names don't matter when all you want to do is…"

"…finish my lunch," Logan interrupted, gesturing grandly towards our sundae. "Besides, Mia and I were having a nice time before you interrupted it with your innuendo." I nodded in agreement. The last thing I wanted to hear about was James's sex life, especially since it was standing right in front of us, trying to decipher the difference between chocolate and vanilla.

"It's not my fault that the ladies-and men-love me. I'm James Diamond. No one can resist me," he said, running a black fine-toothed comb through his hair. I stared at him, wondering if I had been hallucinating, or if this was who James had really become, a self-centered, soulless, sexual deviant. Logan smiled apologetically at me, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. Sometimes, I swore that boy could read my mind.

"Men?" I repeated, as James put away his comb, holding up an index finger at his conquest, who was now huffing impatiently by the counter.

"Well, yeah. You didn't think that all of _this_," he stopped to motion wildly with his hands while moving his head back and forth, "was only for one gender, did you?"

"What he meant to say is that he came out just a few months after you left. His parents are pretty cool with it, for the most part, and so are we," Logan clarified after shooting a glare in James' direction. "And hopefully, you are too."

"I am," I assured, grinning at James. "I'm all about whatever makes you happy."

"Good, because I don't think I could take it if you hated me," he admitted, pulling me into a one-armed hug. I tried not to stiffen at the action, forcing a smile as he all but beamed in my direction.

"Uh, I think Sandy is about to hate _you_," Logan said, pointing in her direction. James and I turned around to see an incredibly irate Sandy stomp over to our table, a small serving of vanilla soft-serve in her hands.

"If you are going to dump me for another girl, at least have her be cuter than me!" she shouted, dumping the contents onto James' head.

"My hair!" he shrieked, swatting it off before calling after the blonde, stomping his foot in frustration as she ignored him. He growled before sitting next to me, sliding the sundae towards him and grabbing the nearest spoon. He then began to devour it angrily, only coming up for air upon realizing that Logan and I were staring at him. "What?" he barked, surveying us as he swallowed.

"Nothing!" we said simultaneously, raising our hands in surrender. I pulled out a napkin from the holder, reaching over to wipe the dessert off of his face and hair.

"You got a little um, ice cream, there," I stuttered, smiling awkwardly as I pulled out a second, and a third to aid me in the mess. Logan had taken to dabbing at his shirt, giving the boy a quick hug as he ate.

"Don't worry, James. They'll be other girls," he soothed, rubbing his back.

"I've been trying to get that girl for three weeks," he muttered as he gently pushed us away. "Three. Fucking. Weeks."

"And you didn't know her name?" I asked, setting a napkin down onto the table. James and Logan scowled, causing me to look down in shame. "Sorry."

"Well, I mean, I was pursuing other options then, to make her jealous, but still," he explained, resting his head onto the surface.

"James, you're too good for that girl anyway," I said, Logan nodding in agreement.

"Besides, she flipped out, and you weren't even doing anything!" he pointed out. "And, she called Mia ugly."

"Thanks for pointing that out," I said, rolling my eyes. The girl's words hadn't phased me, yet for some reason, Logan's repeating them had.

"Oh, come on, Mia. You know you're beautiful," he said, disbelief laced in his tone.

"I have to admit, puberty _has_ been good to you," James said, nodding as he looked me over. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling completely exposed as his eyes inspected my body, causing me to shift against the seat. My cheeks turned scarlet as I pivoted away from him, wondering if any of the females he had courted felt a similar reaction.

Just then, Logan's phone began to ring, the vibration causing it to dance across the surface before he picked it up, sighing.

"Yes, Carlos?" he said, before promptly getting up from his seat. "What? I'll be right there. Don't move. Oh, you know what I mean!" He then jammed the phone into his pocket before slapping a twenty down, making his way out of the booth. "Carlos got his arm stuck in the vending machine again trying to get fruit smackers. I have to go to get him out. I'll be back later." He then smacked his palm against his forehead before turning towards James, asking, "Can you give Mia a ride home?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, shrugging before going back to his ice cream. "Good luck, man!" Logan waved as he ran off, exiting the parlor. I glanced around, confused by what had just happened, the scene moving too fast for me to keep up.

"Aren't you worried about Carlos?" I questioned, studying him.

"Not really," James answered, nonchalantly. "Chances are, Logan will call Kendall and they'll have to use something to get him out. One time, I used chocolate. Did not work out so well." He grimaced, shaking slightly as he did so. "He'll be fine though, he gets into stuff like this all the time."

"Oh," I replied, playing with the stray thread on my shirt once more. He stopped eating upon noticing this, moving closer to me before resting his hand on my forearm.

"Look, Mia, Carlos is in good hands. Kendall and Logan will take care of everything, you don't need to worry. You of all people should know that this isn't the first time we've had to get him out of something," he reasoned, his tone almost…_comforting_. "Remember the time he got his head stuck in his fish tank?"

I nodded, placing my hand on top of his before shifting it away, my expression apologetic. "Yeah, I remember," I replied, my arms settling around my frame. I didn't understand why everyone was so keen on touching me; James, Kendall, Logan, Mrs. Knight. I didn't want their affection, nor did I need it. I was never going to get used to this world; it stopped belonging to me years ago, and I hadn't wanted it back.

Not then, anyway.

I avoided James' eyes, feeling them all but bore into me as I tugged at the collar of my shirt, a thin layer of sweat beginning to appear against my skin. I had to get out of there, now. I climbed over him, my feet barely touching the ground as I left, forcing the door open, grinning as I inhaled the fresh Minnesota air. My hands situated on my knees, my breath ragged as I looked down at the asphalt, willing my body to calm down. I hadn't noticed that James caught up to me until I heard his voice, my countenance hardening, refusing to gaze at him.

"Mia, what is going on?" he asked worriedly, panting slightly.

I sniffled, my eyes glued to the parking lot as I whispered, "I want to go home."

* * *

"You're going to have to talk to me sometime," James said, his back resting against the headboard of my bed, his legs crossed at his ankles as he stared at me intently. His mouth formed a hard line, and it was all I could do not to return his fixation, hoping that my own glare could wear him down slowly so that I could be alone once again.

I brought my knees up to my chest, tapping my ring finger against my kneecap as I waited for him to leave, knowing it was only going to be a matter of time before he got bored with me and gave up, much like everyone else had done before. I wasn't going to talk; I liked my demons exactly where they were, right in front of me, plaguing me throughout every day life. I wasn't about to pass that onto someone else, regardless of heavy the burden was. It was what I deserved. It was easier to resist rather than assimilate, and I would do the former for as long as I could, even if it killed me.

"Just so you know, the silent treatment doesn't work on me," he noted, smirking. "I'll just keep talking until you either tell me to shut up, or throw something at me. Though I warn you, I tend to get _real_ chatty when things are thrown." I laid back, my spine meeting with the sheets as I put my hands over my ears, smiling triumphantly. I began to hum as James raised an eyebrow, tickling my stomach casually. I rolled over, suppressing an involuntary smile as I groaned loudly into my comforter, wondering if James had truly thought of everything.

He'd been on my case the second we pulled up to the house, asking if he could come inside so that we could have a discussion. I politely declined, seeing as how I'd made it more than clear on the way home that I wasn't up for verbalizing anything, yet he'd chosen to disregard this, writing it off as me being stubborn. I'd slammed the door in his face, swiftly locking it, leaning up against the frame before I saw him enter through the back, holding up a pair of keys.

_"Mrs. Knight always leaves a spare," he said, grinning. "Oh, and don't even think about taking these from me, she has at least two more pairs in the front yard."_

Barring him from my room wasn't an option either. With a simple insertion of an open bobby pin, he was able to penetrate that area as well, leaving me completely helpless.

I looked up, only to be greeted with an enthusiastic wave and smile from James, making my stomach churn.

"What do you want, Diamond?" I asked, despite knowing the answer.

"I want you to talk to me. Explain why you've been acting so weird and jumpy, why you're fucking fighting with Kendall," he answered, his tone harsh and assertive. "I know it's not just about your parents, Mia. There's something bigger, something you're not telling us. I may not be as smart as Logan but if there's one thing I know, it's my friends." I immediately regretted looking into his eyes as he said this, the sincerity in them was enough to overpower me completely, making me want to spill my very soul. I didn't want to be the cause of all that hurt, all that _pain_ radiating from them, yet that small part of my being, one that controlled my every action told me it was right. That it would be worth it.

I almost believed that, too.

"I-I-I'm not your friend, James," I said, struggling with my words. "We haven't seen or spoken to each other in years, so please don't act like I am the same twelve-year-old girl that you knew in seventh grade, because she died. I hate how you all are so…_stuck_ on her. Didn't you think that I would change, at least a_ little_ while I was gone?"

"A little change, yes," he admitted, "But this…goes beyond that. It's different. It's not just you getting older, Mia, it's…"

"None of your business," I snapped, glaring at him.

"You're my friend so that **makes **it my business," he countered, staring daggers at me in return. "Whether you like it or not, we're here, Mia. We always have been, and always will be, no matter what bullshit Kendall fed you years ago. Frankly, if I had known that he told you that, I would have punched him in the face." There it was, the old James. The one who would do anything for his friends, even if it would cost him everything. That was the boy I knew.

The boy I loved.

"He was angry," I murmured, playing with my hands. I swallowed hard, attempting to hold back the bile that collected in my throat upon realizing that I was actually going to _defend_ Kendall Knight…**again**. However, I knew it was the right thing to do; the boys meant everything to him, and the situation wasn't totally his fault. I couldn't let him go down for something that I had a part in, no matter how small-or large-it was. "I wasn't exactly being completely truthful back then. How would you feel if someone you cared about lied to you?" James frowned, conceding to my point, though his countenance was still littered with questions.

"I'd be upset, but that still doesn't change the fact that he said it, Mia," he replied, inching closer to me. "I don't care how pissed he was, he shouldn't have gone that far, not with you." If I were a lesser person, I would have blushed at his words, flattered that someone as attractive as James Diamond took an interest in me in my time of need. But I wasn't. Instead, I saw his words as a ploy, a device used to get me to speak about my past, and I wouldn't fall for it.

Not this time.

"I'm not a china doll, James. I can handle whenever someone is being an asshole towards me," I snapped. "I wish that everyone would stop treating me differently because of a little blip in my life. I'm fine."

"If it's such a 'little blip,' then why haven't you come out of your room since we hung out with you? Why is it like pulling teeth for Mama Knight to get you to come down to dinner? Why is it that whenever anyone touches you, you freak out and start crying? That is not normal behavior, Mia, and until Kendall and Logan, I'm not gonna back off until you start telling me what's going on!"

"THERE IS NOTHING TO TELL!" I shrieked, getting off of my bed. "And even if there was, it's too late to do anything about it now. They're dead, so it doesn't matter. What I fucking feel, do, or say about it doesn't fucking matter!" I sunk to the floor, sobbing hysterically, my head placed in my hands as I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me. I was hoping that my secrets, my burdens would die with my parents, buried deep underneath the Earth where no one, not even myself could reach them. Yet, they were more alive than ever, their very presence threatening to consume my entire being. I could have gotten used to it, choking on my own submission, preserving the good they'd left behind after their passing. It was the least I could do, their demise shattered the illusion we had worked so hard to build; the idea that the Giordano's were the perfect family. We all but bathed ourselves in falsehood, using duplicity as a vice to cope with our hollow family lives. Now, there I was, paying the price for their sins, as well as my own.

James became silent, content with holding me as I cried, rubbing my back soothingly. I wasn't sure why the tears continued to fall, knowing my parents were spinning in their graves at the idea of me breaking down, regardless of the fact that James had once been one of my closest companions. I buried my head into his neck, hiccuping as I became lost in the affection, breathing in his scent, submerging myself in his essence. I just needed someone to hold me; someone to tell me that everything was going to be alright, despite the dark outlook.

"It _does_ matter," he whispered, tilting my head up so that I could look into his eyes. "How you feel, I mean. Just because they're gone doesn't mean that you can't talk about it, Mia. If anything, it should encourage you."

"You don't know my parents, James," I murmured between sobs, pausing to wipe my eyes before I continued. "There was so much more to it that you will never understand, and I couldn't talk about any of it. I still can't. I…it's too much. Looking back makes it real, and it just, it can't be real, James. It's not possible. This wasn't what was supposed to happen." Long fingers ran through my dark hair as he held me closer, swaying us back and forth to an invisible beat.

"I know, Mimi. But that's why I'm here, why we're all here. We're going to get you through this, alright? Please believe that," he whispered, before brushing his lips against my forehead. I shivered, missing the contact of another human being. I was indulging in him, for reasons even I, myself, wasn't sure of, but I loved it. I simply nodded, closing my eyes as he began to hum, the dulcet tones calming me almost instantly. I had forgotten how much James adored to sing, a smile playing on my countenance as I remembered his lifelong dream to be famous. I hadn't heard him in years, but somehow, I knew he carried something magical.

"Thank you," I breathed, brushing away the last of my tears.

James grinned, squeezing me tightly as he replied, "You're welcome." I hadn't expected him to be like this, so warm, so nurturing. In the past, James had brought fun into my life, his outgoing personality all but infectious. Though he was a bit clueless at times, that was what made him exciting; keeping both myself as well as the others, on our toes. I'd long since considered him to be an enigma, wondering how he managed to juggle so many hats at once. It seemed as if he had a personality for everyone, saving the best of him for those he was closest to. That was my favorite part, the side no one else got to see, save for the four of us. It was his veneers that I disliked; hating how contrived they were, yet people flocked to him, praising him for a character that barely existed-at least, to a lesser extent. It was a shame to see that it had gotten worse; twisting into one, the shallow bleeding into the sensitive. It was pacifying to know that it was still there, buried underneath the showmanship.

"Why are you so sweet, Jamie?" I asked, genuinely curious. I didn't understand how someone with so much charisma possessed so much sweetness; it didn't make sense.

"Honestly? You kinda make it easy, Mimi," he said, caressing my forearm. "Well that, and I am just naturally awesome." He nodded eagerly at this, causing me to giggle. "What? It's true. Don't even deny it."

"I will admit that you have some swag, but don't get ahead of yourself, Diamond," I replied, thumping him on the shoulder. He flinched, screeching slightly before hitting me in return, rubbing the sore spot with his free hand.

"Hey! I cannot afford to bruise right now! It's summertime and I need to be by the pool, getting my tan on!" he yelled, my laughter only increasing.

"You do remember that we live in Sherwood, not Los Angeles, right?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Talk like that will **not** get you a nice scenic spot at my poolside mansion there," he replied, his expression serious.

"I apologize then! Who would I be if I turned down access to the best pool in California?" I said, playing along, resting my head on his shoulder.

"A loser," he answered, smirking.

I was about to retort when suddenly, my door opened, James and I breaking apart upon seeing who it was, blush creeping up on our cheeks.

It was Kendall.


	4. Chapter 4 Part 1: Blindness

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone! I am so sorry that StSt has taken so long to update. It seems as if one thing after another keeps plaguing my family, and with the most recent blow, it's left me pretty depressed right now. But I thought I'd give you the first section of Chapter 4 as a thank you for being so patient! It's not completely finished yet, but I promise to have the rest up as soon as I possibly can. I just wanted to share what has definitely been "locked down" so to speak. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed/viewed/alerted/favorited! It has made me so happy, more than you'll ever know!**

**A VERY special thank you goes out to waterwicca for helping me out, not only with this chapter, but with life in general. Thank you so much for being a wonderful friend. I dedicate this chapter, both parts, to you. I don't know where I'd be without you.**

**Please enjoy the first section of Chapter 4.**

******DISCLAIMER: I do not own BTR. I do own my OC Mia, as well as any others therein.**

* * *

_Chapter 4: Blindness (Part 1)_

* * *

Anger was all I could see as he stalked towards us, a chill coursing through my body as he drew nearer, my body futilely bracing for impact. I tried to ignore the familiar burning that had plagued my being once again, my fingertips running smoothly up and down my forearm up to abate the feeling. I could slowly feel myself breaking, wondering why I had become so caught in the moment with James. I knew better than that, to allow myself to_ feel_, yet I had partaken in it regardless.

Kendall's rage was exactly what I deserved.

Yet, despite knowing this, it was all I could do not to hold on to him again; my body all but craving the care he'd bestowed upon it with little hesitation. I always saw myself as someone who was perpetually broken; beyond repair, help, or redemption. Over the course of a month, the boys had seen past that, into the girl trapped underneath the emotional rubble, clawing for escape.

Green eyes narrowed in our direction as Kendall's strides grew, his fingers curling into fists. If I hadn't known any better, I could have sworn that his fingernails had broken the skin underneath, the sting only furthering his resolve.

James's eyes flickered down his hands, his body involuntarily moving in front of mine, shielding me, his feet planted firmly against the wooden floor as I shrunk back, ready to duck.

I knew a blowout when I saw one.

I tried to ignore the flashes of my home life that had abruptly clouded my vision, the images alone enough for me to want to recoil, unsure if I could handle what was about to transpire. I placed a hand back against the wall, steadying me as Kendall opened his mouth to speak, preparing for the worst.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he bellowed, gesturing wildly between myself and James. I cringed at the tone, it was the same one my father used whenever he was about to rip into my mother over something minuscule._ 'Sophia!'_ My subconscious screamed, the name spit out quickly, as if he couldn't stand it being on his tongue a second longer than necessary. It was then that I would make myself scarce, hiding in my room or behind the most inconspicuous piece of furniture. I remembered praying that I would blend in, that I wouldn't become a part of their argument, despite knowing damn well that I would be, regardless. It was all about the timing.

"I was just comforting her, which is more than I can say for _you_," James said, moving forward. I bit my bottom lip, temporarily looking away from the scene. I couldn't believe how much my day had shifted; I longed for my earlier actions, wishing that I hadn't traced my fingers over the paper, letting the longing plague my subconscious, before succumbing to it completely. I had become weak.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kendall asked, his fingers swiftly shaping into fists. "She won't let me do anything with her. Just talking to her is like pulling teeth, but apparently she has no problem with you." I cringed, hearing the venom in his tone as he shot a look in my direction, his countenance softening slightly. I shifted my weight between my feet, biting down my bottom lip as I broke our gaze, finding that once again, he was reading a little too deeply into my soul. It was the same one my father gave my mother when he knew that he had checkmated her. Her resolve had broken completely, leaving her limp, helpless even, her eyes pricking with unshed tears. Her hands would shake, gripping onto the nearest piece of furniture to help her stand, determined not to give up, even in her delicate state.

I wasn't nearly as strong.

"Look, I was just trying to get Mia to talk, alright?" James spat, stepping forward. "But I pushed her too hard. She started to cry, I comforted her, and changed the subject. That's. All. I just wanted to make her feel better, let her know that she has friends who care about her!"

"And I don't care about Mia?" Kendall retorted, gesturing towards me. My mind flashed to more images of my former life, my body trembling with fear. I just wanted it all to _stop_. It was all I could do not to cry out to both of them, much like I wanted to with my parents. "I've been busting my _ass_ trying to get her to talk to me, and she refuses to!"

"I wonder why, man?" James said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Maybe it's because you lied to her face about us, saying that we don't fucking care about her! It hasn't been easy for us to get her to talk either, and it's all because of _your_ little fuck up!"

"You think that I don't know that, James?" he shouted, getting into his face. "I beat myself up for it every. Damn. Day. My best friend that I've known pretty much since birth refuses to even look at me 'cause of what I did! You don't think that that doesn't eat me up inside? That as much as I want to, I can't fix any of this for her? And it doesn't help that you're pissed at me too." He paused to run his fingers through his hair, his expression changing from one of anger, to distress. "All of my brothers are."

"We're not mad," James replied, his tone soft, caring even. He placed a hand onto Kendall's shoulder, squeezing it, before letting it fall, his fingertips grazing over the skin. "We're just…_confused_, that's all. We wish that you guys would just talk to us about what happened. We're worried, about you _and_ Mia." I studied him, my appearance turning sour upon realizing that this was more than just fighting to him. There was something else to it, an element that I couldn't quite catch, despite its easy detection. Though the emotion was there, the very substance of it was an enigma…one I was drawn to, at that.

I wanted to help him, quell whatever it was that surged inside of him, that caused him anguish. I pitied him. My head swayed at the idea of taking on someone else's pain, shooing the thought from my mind just as quickly as it came. I didn't need to take on anyone else's baggage at the moment; I had more than enough of my own.

"There's nothing to worry about. This is between me and her. I know that, and she knows that," he said, nodding towards me. I took in a breath, choosing to neither confirm nor deny Kendall's words, despite the fact that I knew he was right. I knew I was better off staying quiet, cleaning up the mess their fight was sure to leave behind. That was my job; drying tears and making everything look like new, as if it had never been touched.

"That's the problem with you two!" James said, angrily. "You're always keeping shit from us, when you know we all work best as a unit! Stop shutting us out and let us help you with whatever's wrong!"

"Has it ever occurred to you, James, that I haven't told you guys what happened between us, because it would only make things worse? Contrary to what you might think, I actually _don't_ like to keep things from my brothers," Kendall retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Be pissy all you want, James, but I'm not budging on this. It's the best thing for us, and for Mia."

"Don't act like you even give two shits about her! Mia needs **all **of us, not just _you_. I would think that after what happened today, and last week, you would know that!" James countered, jabbing a finger in Kendall's direction. I gasped as Kendall tackled him, slamming him against the wall, his fingers all but hooked onto his collar.

"_NEVER_, question how much I care about Mia!" he growled, pushing James even harder against the surface. "Do you hear me? You know _exactly_ how much she means to me."

This comment seemed to wound James more than the others. A sullen expression took over his features, his lips pursing as he stared at him, before pushing him away, moving to stride out of the room.

"Then act like it," he said, glaring at him. "'Cause you sure as hell aren't now." His vision flickered in my direction, prompting me to tense. "Call me later, Mimi. Logan'll give you my number, just ask him." I nodded before watching as he walked away, resisting the urge to call out to him. I knew James well enough to know that he needed space; any more time in that room and he would have attempted to knock Kendall out, guaranteed.

'Kendall,' I thought to myself as my vision shifted towards him, my fingers curling into my palms as I noticed his defensive stance. His eyes were fixated on the door, as if he were expecting James to pop up any second, picking up their fight exactly where it left off. I could tell he was ready to defend both himself, as well as me, despite the fact that the latter was no longer necessary. I hated how he always managed to push his way into my life, seeping into every aspect, regardless of whether I wanted him to or not. Every time I tried to push him away, there he was, combatting twice as hard, determined to make his way back to where he belonged; right next to me. I wanted to let it die, let the place where he once rested heal over, make way for something new, something _better_, something that wouldn't let me down. However, there was a part of me that ached for him, for our former friendship, everything it was, and could be, hell, would be, if I let it grow. It was that side of me that I loathed the most, its rhetoric refusing to silence no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

I missed him.

I slammed my fist down against the dresser in front of me, tears once again, flooding my eyes. Why was this so damn _hard_?

"M-Mia?" he asked, cautiously, sensing how vulnerable I was. "Are you alright?"

"No," I said, reaching up to wipe my eyes. "I'm not." My vision drifted towards the ceiling, studying the various dots that littered the surface.

"W-what's wrong?" he queried, stepping closer to me. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"No, I can't," I replied, gritting my teeth.

"Yes, you can. Look, I know we haven't spoken in a while but-"

"But, _NOTHING_!" I shouted, turning to face him. "I am so _sick_ of you trying to make your way back into my life, Kendall. Frankly, I don't give a shit if we live together, what I said that night, hell, over the past few weeks, still. Stands. We aren't friends, we aren't _anything_, and we never will be again. So stop trying, okay? And stop scaring away the people who actually are."

"I wasn't scaring James away," he said, choosing to disregard my previous words. "I was just-"

"-Acting like an ass? Because you really were doing a spectacular job with that," I retorted, moving towards him. "Contrary to what you might have been thinking, James and I weren't about to fuck on the floor. He was trying to make me laugh because I'd broken down in front of him. Something I wouldn't have done had it not been for you trying to push me over the edge since I moved here!"

"Oh, so trying to get you talk is 'pushing you over the edge' now? Good to know," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he nodded sarcastically. "And, for the record, I didn't think that you and James were about to fuck on the floor, I was…" He paused for a minute, pursing his lips as he thought, unsure if he were ready to reveal the words that were seconds away from falling.

"You were what? Please, enlighten me, since I have this all wrong! Because I really want to know why the fuck you would scare away the one person, who, for the first time in weeks, actually made me feel safe!" I shouted, gesturing wildly towards the door.

"I was jealous of him, alright?" he screamed, the words making my body turn cold. I recoiled, my back pressing up against the wall as I waited to continue, his words echoing throughout my mind. He was _jealous_? I blinked, confused, before connecting my gaze with his once more, his green eyes all but brimming with sadness. "I was jealous because he was able to get close to you. To see all the things that I used to be able to see, until you shut me out. I know you have a damn good reason to, Mimi, and I get that, but I miss my best friend. I have for four years, especially since that fuckin' night."

I wasn't sure what to say. If there was anything_ to _say. His words affected me more than I would have liked; making me wish I had steeled myself more before engaging in conversation with him, knowing full well that it was going to end up like this. Him begging, and me seconds away from rolling over, giving him exactly what he wanted. I swore I wouldn't be like that with him again, become enamored with his words-yet there I was, dying to hug him, to make everything okay between us again.

Too bad it would never happen.

He was the source of it all, every negative emotion that swam through me, threatening to suffocate me at any moment.

He was the reason why I was so _fucked_.

"When are you going to accept the fact that our friendship is finished?" I snapped. "You won't be able to see me like this, _anymore_! It's done, Kendall. You fucked up, and now you have to live with it. Being friends with you, letting you see all of those sides of me only screwed me over in the end. And what's worse, is that you don't even care! You barely even acknowledge it. You just see it as this little tiny screw up that you can somehow just magically repair by kissing my ass!"

"You really think that that's how I see it? As one tiny little screw up?" he bellowed, his face just inches away from mine. "Sometimes I wonder if you even know me at all, Giordano. Because if you really did, you'd know that it was more than that. You think that I don't know what I did? I am so sick and tired of you parading around the fact that I fucked up, Mia! I already know that I did, you beating it into my head every fucking time we talk doesn't help me at all! You think that the guilt doesn't eat me alive? That I haven't wished-fuck, prayed-every fucking night that I could go back and fix it, to help you and Aunt Sophie? That I wouldn't have to hear my mother cry herself to sleep every night? Or watching as my sister getting emotional every time she even looks at something that reminds her of Aunt Sophia? Believe it or not, Mia, you're not the only one in this family going through something!" He paused, pulling at his scalp as he attempted to fight back the tears that had threatened to fall, kicking my dresser harshly in frustration.

"I just want it to stop. I'd give anything to make it stop. No matter how hard I try, I just-I just see _everything_. It kills me knowing that I've hurt you so fucking bad that you don't even want to be in the same room as me anymore. We-we used to be so fucking close, and now it's like we barely know each other, all because I fucked up so badly. My aunt is_ dead_, because I fucked up so badly. It's all I can do not to put a fucking gun to my head and kill myself."

I stared at him, shocked as I attempted to process his words, terrified at how much his mindset seemed to mirror my own…and for all the wrong reasons.

Kendall Knight didn't deserve to die.

I did.

He stared back at me, his expression begging, _pleading _for me to tell him that he was wrong, that he wasn't responsible for my parents' demise.

I stayed silent.

A loud knock broke our silence, our eyes immediately moving towards the door, shock etched on our faces as we found a worried Mrs. Knight leaning against the frame, arms intertwined over her chest.

"What is going on here?" she asked, her vision darting back and forth between us, as if she couldn't decide who to comfort first. Kendall looked at me, hoping that I would step up and answer first, knowing that my words held more weight than his ever could.

I turned away.

"Nothing, mom," he said, when he finally summoned the courage to speak. "I-I'm alright. Just…worry about Mimi, okay? Trust me, she needs your help more than I do." With one final glance in my direction, he left the room, disregarding his mother's pleas for him to stay.

She turned towards me, countenance hopeful that I would finally speak, divulge every demon I had to her, in the hope that she and I would once again, become close.

I didn't.


	5. Chapter 4 Part 2: Blindness Continued

**Author's Note: Holy crap, has it been a long time! Geez. I'm kinda ashamed, haha. But in all seriousness, I apologize for the VERY long time gap between updates. Life has been crazy over the past few months, and now that I'm in a better place, this story should be receiving regular updates. ****I know we've found out a LOT of stuff since I've last posted, including Mama Knight's REAL first name...but I've decided to keep her name in StSt world, as Elizabeth. Why? Well, it ties into the story! Plus, this IS an AU and everything, so yes. But everything else here should be canon, unless otherwise noted.**

**This chapter really was a labor of love, and I'd like to thank waterwicca, my lovely wife for helping me out, as well as my wonderful new beta Bowman0306. :-) You ladies are beyond words, thank you so much for your help, as well as your guidance.**

**Alright, shutting up now. Anonymous reviews are enabled, so please, don't be shy with the feedback. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favorited StSt, after all this time. :-)**

**If you ever wanna contact me, feel free to do so via my tumblr: sickmuses(dot)tumblr(dot)com**

**DISCLAIMER: Big Time Rush isn't mine, sadly, but Mia, her mother, and other OCs therein, are. **

* * *

_Chapter 4 Part II: Blindness (continued)_

* * *

Dinner was supposed to be involuntary.

It always had been that way for me; a time for crafted for sustenance and speed, knowing that at any second, _he_ could come home, ready for battle, the day's failings serving as both armor and ammunition.

Like so many other times in my life, I wished to be invisible. I wished that I could sit down and actually eat, to enjoy my meal rather than see it as a hindrance, knowing full well I needed to duck and cover. Most days, I was lucky. I'd make it out just in time, missing his predatory gaze as he hunted for his victims, looking to displace his anger onto the nearest innocent party. I'd tuck myself away, my breath still as he called out our names, afraid that the slightest intake of air would set him off, sending him straight to me. I wasn't sure why I did this—he always became frustrated when he realized that no one was home, muttering to himself as he paced around the room, unsure of what to do without his wife and child to torment.

He never had to wait long, my mother would stride in, a tune on her lips as she made her way into the kitchen…until she saw him. It was a dead stop every time, her face would pale, her hands would begin to shake as she tried to mentally recall her transgressions before he stalked over, a smirk on face as if he couldn't _wait _to devour her. It made me shudder every time.

Even now, as I sat down at the table with the Knight's, a small tremor snaked through me at the memory, at the days when I wasn't so fortunate to avoid him…and the aftermath upon doing so. I could still hear his loud, sinister tone burn through my ears, my own hands trembling as I attempted not to cover them, not wanting them to know that I was once again, having a flashback. Instead, I took a precursory glance across the table, a contrived smile on my face as I made eye contact with my fellow diners, apart from _him_. My heart sank, my gaze switching back to my plate in haste, occupying myself by rearranging my food once more.

Unfortunately, my action didn't go unnoticed. Mrs. Knight and Katie had been staring at us throughout the entire meal, upon observing that their efforts to make conversation with us had died within seconds. I'd always made a point to at least try to chat with them during dinnertime, my soft spot for the two growing exponentially over the past few weeks. I figured it was the least I could do for the people who had already done so much, without asking for anything in return. Most of the time, however, I remained mute, watching as words ping-ponged back and forth between the Knight children and their mother. It almost made me jealous.

Kendall was usually the most engaged out of them all, peppering his mother and sister with questions that they were more than happy to answer. Their responses often segued into deeper conversations, ones he'd try to pull me into, triggering me to speak. He was determined to make me more than just a bystander in his life; he wanted to integrate me fully, fitting seamlessly into the space he'd carved out for me years ago. To him, it was still smooth to the touch, fingers skating along the material with ease, no flaws to be found. I viewed it as a more jagged piece, splintering at the seams, eroding from the inside out. Just like me.

"So, Kendall, are you excited for hockey this year? I heard that you guys are looking to recruit some fresh blood this year," Mrs. Knight said, a strained smile on her face as she tried to get her son to talk. He'd been like that for most of the night; quiet, introverted, his mind solely on digesting the meal…and nothing more. Kendall just grunted, nodding quickly, his stare never breaking from the plate. Mrs. Knight sighed, placing her fork onto the table, her brows furrowing as she studied her son. She was torn between pushing the issue and letting him be, her mind leaning heavily towards the former, despite his reclusive state. It was almost impossible to talk to Kendall when he was upset, as he preferred to either swallow the emotion whole or drown himself in it completely. Either way, he was defensive, refusing to let anyone in until he was teetering on the edge; his insides just seconds away from tearing themselves apart.

"Okay, what is going here?" Katie asked, slamming her utensils down onto the table causing the three of us to shoot upward from our chairs. It was then that I finally saw him, countenance littered with confusion as he blinked rapidly, as if he'd forgotten that she existed.

"Katie!" Mrs. Knight barked, glaring at her in warning. However, the ten-year-old's stance didn't waiver, her vision moving back and forth between me and Kendall.

"You two have been acting weird around each other for weeks now," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I want to know why."

"We haven't been acting weird," I countered, swallowing audibly as I played with my fingers. It was amazing how exposed I felt, as if at any moment, I would be figured out, forced to tell the truth to save what little privacy I had left.

"Yes, you have!" she said, her expression pleading. "And it's only gotten worse over the past couple days. Aunt Sophia wouldn't want us to be living like this. She'd want us to be a family."

There it was, that word again. The one that would forever haunt me, remind me of everything I didn't have; how lazily the word seem to move over my lips when I spoke, as if it hadn't belonged in my vocabulary at all. It was the reason I was there, watching as Katie's eyes filled with tears, the action a shocking reminder that no matter how old she appeared to be in stance, she would always would be, and in essence was, a child. She needed stability, the controls that kept every child unscathed, knowing there was a safe place to come home to.

Kendall and I looked down, the shame setting in almost instantly. We hadn't meant for her to become a casualty of our relationship. The purpose of the distance was to secure her, to keep her out of the line of fire, as opposed to being barraged by bullets. We'd spent so much time focusing on each other that we had forgotten about the ones that needed us the most. We'd taken them for granted, leaving them out in the cold in favor of our own shelter, protecting our own emotions rather than nurturing theirs.

"It's my fault," Kendall said, breaking the silence between us. Katie and Mrs. Knight turned towards him, their faces riddled with both shock and confusion. It appeared that he had the same revelation, the weight of it all resting definitively on his features. "I caused this. I caused everything. I'm so sorry, Katie. I'm sorry…"

"Kendall, what are you talking about?" Mrs. Knight asked as she reached out, rubbing his arm soothingly. "None of this is your fault, sweetie—"

"It's mine," I said, shifting uncomfortably as all eyes were on me, inhaling deeply to steady myself. "Don't blame yourself for this, Kendall. It's all on me. You had nothing to do with it," I said, our eyes locking. "You have been a great friend, wonderful, really, and all I've done is hurt you. Everyone."

"Mia, honey, you haven't been hurting us…" Mrs. Knight said, reaching over to rub my shoulder. It took everything in me to relax, to remind myself that she wasn't a threat. I gripped the table, my eyes no longer meeting Kendall's as I inhaled, images of my former life flashing before me. "We've just been worried about you, that's all."

"Yeah, Mimi, we just wanna help. Let us be here for you," Katie said, getting up from her seat. Small fingers cradled my vacant shoulder, the gesture all but screaming of urgency. She needed me to be okay. She needed me to be my former self; someone she knew, as opposed to the stranger currently occupying my frame. I ran my fingers through my hair, uncertainty coursing through me as I wondered if I could truly be that girl again. They had no idea who she was, how hard it was to just _be_ her on a daily basis, artificiality running through her like a poison. I wanted to get away from her completely, to substitute her for what was real, regardless of how grotesque it was.

At least it was me.

"We don't expect you to be better overnight, but we do want to help you get there. We care about you, sweetie. You have to know that," Mrs. Knight added, her countenance desperate, as if she would crumble if my answer were anything but 'yes.'

I studied her, noting the pain that had enveloped her features, the sight alone all but breaking my heart. It was as if she had aged overnight, agony showing in every cell, as she, too, longed for the balance that kept her from teetering over the edge. It was then that I understood the magnitude of her loss; the inability for her to function without my mother by her side. Before, the thought of just knowing she was alive was enough to sustain her. Now, she no longer had that luxury, that comfort that helped her sleep at night. Sophia was close, but not nearly in the way she wanted her to be.

I sighed. Although I knew better than to put my life into someone else's hands, I couldn't hurt them anymore. I had to try, no matter how much it wounded me.

I had to let them in.

"I do," I said, glancing at both Mrs. Knight and Katie. I stiffened slightly as they embraced me, my hands making their way towards each of their arms as I returned their affection. I allowed myself to get lost in them, accepting their warmth as if it truly belonged to me. I felt him watching me, scrutinizing my every move as he tried to decipher me. I knew I was unreadable to him, and although a part of me wanted to stay that way, I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to break down our barrier. I couldn't let him continue to think that everything was his fault when it was far from the case. He didn't deserve to carry that burden, it was mine, and mine alone.

* * *

"So Mia, are you excited for your first day of school?" Mrs. Knight asked, grinning at me through the rearview mirror. I paled at the question, choosing to stay silent as Katie placed a warm hand onto my shoulder.

"Mom, it's just orientation. There's no need to freak her out more than she already is!" she retorted, shaking her head. I laughed, even though I wanted to do anything but. Her words hadn't helped me at all, if anything, it compounded my nervousness tenfold. Social gatherings weren't really my style, and it didn't help that my parents's deaths made headlines in the local news. I would now, and forever be, defined by them.

Great.

"She's not freaked out. Mia's a big girl, she can handle this!" Mrs. Knight replied, looking at me through the rearview mirror. We'd been on the road for a good ten minutes, snapshots of Minnesota life whizzing by as we made our way towards the school. My time there was guaranteed to be an 'experience,' as she'd put it, donning a smirk that could rival her son's. I'd forgotten that she'd attended the school with my mother, another aspect of my life that I'd chosen not to recollect. It was odd knowing that I would be attending her alma mater, walking through the very halls she once stepped foot in. I tried not to think about it as I sunk into my seat, resting my hand on my forehead. Mrs. Knight frowned, turning to look at me upon reaching a red light.

"I know everything is a bit overwhelming for you right now, Mimi, but think of this as a challenge. You are a beautiful, smart girl and I know that everyone there is going to love you," she said, before spinning back around just in time for the light to change. "And if they don't, that's what Katie is for, and the guys." Katie nodded.

"You'd be surprised at how many seniors are scared of me," she assured, causing me to smile. Things had gotten better between the three of us after our conversation at the dinner table a week ago, one that served as a catalyst to a few others since then. I ruffled her hair before smirking as she swatted my hand away, my vision drifting to vacant seat in front of me. Kendall had refused to come with us, claiming that he had 'a couple things to do,' his eyes hardening as he walked towards his own vehicle without a second thought.

The fact that he'd chosen to ride alone as opposed to with us spoke volumes.

Clearly, he wasn't ready to talk just yet.

He'd been actively avoiding me since our fight, going out of his way not even to so much as be in the same room as me, consistently leaving before or after I entered. I chewed on my bottom lip, abating the thought from my mind as the vehicle pulled up to the front of the building, behind a slew of others.

Like most schools, Sherwood High School consisted of subdued brick, the institution's name emblazed in metal on its most prominent wall, announcing its location for all to see. The entryway was on the left, while a courtyard graced the center, consisting of more sidewalk than grass. Parts of the school wrapped around it, forming a 'U,' save for, of course, the parking lot. Some students milled around the outside, clustered in various groups, while others headed straight for the doors, ignoring the masses completely. I gulped at the small sea of bodies, my mind flashing back to the vultures that had circled me just weeks ago, as I said goodbye to _them_.

They were all the same.

"You're gonna be great, Mia," Mrs. Knight said, unbuckling her seatbelt once she'd put the Volvo in park. She reached over, pivoting her body so that it faced mine, extending her arms out to give me a hug. I reciprocated, hugging her back just as tightly, before doing the same to Katie.

"Kick butt today, big sister," she whispered, grinning. "And if anyone gives you a hard time, direct 'em to me. I've got a lot of dirt on this year's junior _and _senior classes."

"_Katie!_" Mrs. Knight shouted, glaring at her in warning. "What she _means_ is that you can talk to us about it when you get home, and we'll try to help you." I held onto them once more, unable to keep myself from laughing at their words, finding their banter entertaining.

"Thanks you guys," I said, before glancing towards the school. "I'll be okay, though. I mean, it's gonna be hard, yeah, but I…I have to face them sometime, right?"

"Just remember sweetie, you're not alone in there," she said, squeezing my hand.

"Pretend we're with you. Even though mom is _way _too old to pass as a high schooler," Katie replied, snickering. Mrs. Knight scowled.

"Okay, we're leaving now," she said, placing the car in drive. "And no more FOX for you, young lady!"

"Aw, man!" Katie moaned as I got out, shutting the door behind me. I waved to them before heading inside, pretending not to notice as Mrs. Knight shouted, 'Have a great day!' at the top of her lungs.

Just what I needed. Embarrassment.

Snickers and snide remarks pervaded my ears as I surveyed the area, paranoia rising as I took in the sea of bodies before me. I couldn't remember the last time I was around so many people all at once, their idle conversations swirling around in my head, echoing loudly. I could feel myself getting dizzy, my body going slack as I leaned against the nearest wall, trying to drown out the cacophony of sound.

I wasn't ready for this.

"Mia!" a voice shouted, the sound of a bag dropping following immediately after. Seconds later, I was enveloped in warmth, an arm wrapping around my shoulder as I wiped away stray tears that had fallen just seconds earlier. "Are you alright?" I looked up, smiling softly as I saw Logan Mitchell, nestling into him despite the gaze of onlookers.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," I said, my voice small and vulnerable. Just like me. "I-I just need a minute, it's a lot to take in, you know?"

"What is going on here?" a teacher asked as she pushed through the throng of students. She knelt down, frowning as she noticed my tear-stained cheeks, her long, brown, hair pooling around her, along with her dress. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"She's fine, Ms. Burgess. This is Mia, she's the, um, _girl_ I told you about," he answered, nudging his head towards my own.

"Oh, right!" she replied, rolling her eyes, laughing at her mistake. "I'm so sorry about your parents, sweetheart. I can imagine how hard it must be for you to be here. I went to school with Sophie, she was a lovely girl."

I blinked, unsure of how I felt about a piece of my mother's past staring me right in the face, no matter how miniscule. I tightened my grip on Logan, wanting nothing more than for her to leave. It was all too overwhelming. I could feel the anxiety rise again, constricting me as I held onto him for dear life, begging silently for him to make it all go away.

"Logan..." I whispered, my timbre barely audible, if it all.

"Um, Ms. Burgess, why don't you give me and Mimi a second here? I can handle her," he said, his hand moving from my shoulder down to my back, rubbing it slightly. "She's going to be fine, she's just nervous. N-New environment and all, you know?" He shrugged causally as he tried to relieve her fears, having picked up on my apprehension.

"I understand," she replied as she got up from the floor. "If you need anything, Mia, my classroom is in room 203B. Logan can show you. We also have a wonderful guidance staff who is more than willing to help you, if you aren't comfortable speaking with me."

I forced a smile, acknowledging my thanks as she walked away, barking at students to get into their respective lines for their schedules. I turned my attention towards Logan, who had since amassed a light shade of pink to his cheeks as he watched her organize the gaggle.

"I swear, I had _no_ idea she knew your mother," he said, quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. I gave him a look. "Okay, I did, but I told her not to mention it. And, for the record, I didn't know that she knew her until after she heard about it on the news, and found out you were coming here."

"And how exactly did she find out about that, and me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ms. Burgess runs the science and math departments here at Sherwood, and the guys and I were trying to find a way for you to get a tour of the school without having to be around other people too much, because we knew you weren't ready for that," he started, taking a deep breath. "So, seeing as how I excel at both math and science, among other things, _and_ I'm her favorite student, _and_ I'm vice president of student council this year, which, you know, she _happens_ to advise—"

"—You thought that you could sweet talk her into letting me tour with one of you," I finished, smiling softly. I shouldn't have been surprised; the guys had always looked out for me in the past, I wasn't sure why I thought the present would be any different, especially after the summer's events.

"Well, yeah. She's in charge of orientation this year, so it all kind of gelled, you know? All four of us actually sweet-talked her into it, since the school doesn't really do private tours too often, if at all. Those are usually saved for special events. When she found out about what happened, she hadn't realized it was your parents until we mentioned it, since their names hadn't been released yet," he explained as his fingers continued to move up and down my spine. A brief, but poignant sigh broke from his lips, his eyes fixated on the floor as he collected himself. Much like Mrs. Knight, Sophia had been a mother-figure to him, frequently encouraging him to bring out the more outgoing side of him; the part of him that was still childlike. Logan had always been mature, amassing both knowledge and behavior that was beyond his years; consistently choosing to 'play it safe,' rather than indulge in recklessness.

And with good reason.

For as long as he could remember, Logan had always been the man of the house, a role he'd happily assimilated into, thanks to the unknown whereabouts of his father. He'd left just months after Logan's birth, this fact alone enough of a reason for him to want to stay away, refusing to meet the man who 'couldn't get his priorities straight.' For years, he'd experienced first-hand exactly how much their sudden break up had affected his mother, watching as she overcompensated for his father's shortcomings.

He wanted to be the child that she didn't have to worry about; he'd gotten along just fine without him thanks in large part to his four best friends, as well as his mother figures. He hadn't felt as if he'd missed out on anything. He wanted to ease her fears, to be everything his father wasn't.

My mother stressed over him constantly, afraid that he was taking on far too much for his age, trying to smooth over edges that were too rough for small, childlike hands.

_'It's okay, Logan,' she'd reassure, her hands on his shoulders as they watched the guys and I roughhouse in the backyard, playing a very acrobatic game of water tag. Logan had sat out, afraid of what his mother might say if he'd gotten his clothes wet. She had been working long hours, spending most of her days attempting to make heads or tails of the real estate business she took over, endeavoring to bring it back to its former glory._

_We could always tell when Logan's mother had a bad week. He'd refuse to play anything with us, choosing to immerse himself in books rather than taking part in the elaborate games Kendall and Carlos came up with. The last thing he wanted to do was make her upset, to give her one more thing to do by tending to wounds, or, most commonly, wash yet another set of dirty clothes before bed. He hated seeing her so burnt out, as if she were ready to collapse, the juggling of both her career and motherhood taking too great a toll on her body._

_'It's okay to want to play with them. I promise, I'll take care of everything before your mom comes and picks you up,' she whispered, ushering him towards us. _

_'Y-You promise?' he hesitated, gazing up at her._

_'I promise,' she replied, smiling as she placed a Super Soaker into his hands. 'Go get 'em.'_

My mother kept her word that day, sending Logan home in laundered clothes, Mrs. Mitchell being none the wiser. I remembered the grateful smile he had on his face as he repeated the tale to me later in the evening as we placed leftovers into the fridge—our usual post-dinner duty. I'd commented on how elated I was that he played with us that day, enjoying how he, Carlos and I triple-teamed Kendall and James once Carlos had switched sides. There was no way he was passing up playing with Logan.

As the days went on, he continued to loosen up, jumping in—and out, if I had backed him up—of the fray as needed, our numerous nights at The Brain Center more than enough to satiate him when he yearned to be young. For the days he did choose to step out of his circle, he recollected her words, the reinforcement of having an adult in his corner all he needed to push forward—support that she was ecstatic to give.

"The only thing that we couldn't get you out of though, was the general assembly," he continued after a moment of silence. "It's no big deal. They read you all of the school rules and policies, and then there's a Q&A with current students, who share their stories and give advice about excelling here at Sherwood."

"I'm guessing you're one of those students, then?" I inquired, feeling my myself loosen up as the conversation went on. It was nice to know that I wasn't alone when it came to processing emotion; it was one of the reasons why Logan and I got along so well. He always had a way of making me feel safe; a feeling that I allowed myself to easily become engrossed in, apprehension thrown to the wayside. I leaned into him even more, smiling as his arm moved to my shoulder, realizing that the action was my silent 'thank you.'

"Yeah, but I have to be here anyway. We're required to help out on orientation day, as the tours are usually given by either student council members, or volunteers," he answered. "Carlos is going to be your tour guide today. He's on probation, because the last time he lead a group around the school, he ended up taking them to the chili cheese fry place on Harbor Ave."

"No way, seriously?" I asked, giggling. I could see it now, Carlos shepherding new students into what was sure to be french fry heaven. I covered my mouth to stifle the sound as I waited for Logan to continue, wanting more details.

"Yeah, he was shocked that one of the new kids hadn't gone there yet. Apparently, _not_ going there is a 'crime against humanity,'" he explained, rolling his eyes.

"Is it wrong that I actually _want _to go to the chili cheese fry place now?" I queried, grinning. "I mean, think about it, he lead an entire group of students out just to _taste_ them, I think it's worth investigating."

"Oh no, no, no! I pulled a lot of strings to get you out of the tour, you are _not_ ditching me for chili!" he protested, letting go of my waist to cross his arms over his chest.

"Orientation starts in five minutes, everyone into the auditorium!" Ms. Burgess shouted, throwing an apologetic expression our way.

"You should probably go in and take your seat," Logan said, reaching for the backpack he'd discarded earlier. He pulled out a piece of paper, along with a white spiral notebook with the words, 'SHERWOOD SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL,' printed on the front, along with the mascot, a spartan, holding a sword with unadulterated pride. Underneath, in smaller print were the words, 'STUDENT PLANNER/HANDBOOK.' I took them both, tucking them underneath my arm as we got up, watching as our fellow pupils pushed through the numerous double-doors.

"I know that this is gonna be hard, but I also know that you can do this. You're strong, Mia. You just don't know it yet. Carlos and I are going to be right there, so if you get scared, just look for us. We'll find a way to make you smile," he assured, slipping his book bag over his shoulder. "Besides, who else is going to help me keep him in line?" I snickered as we walked towards one of the doorways, memories of us trying to tame the wild boy flooding my mind. Carlos was the one who had ceaselessly brought me back to life, reminding me that there was beauty in the world, in spite of all the darkness. I envied his innocence, frequently wishing that I, too, could see the planet through his eyes, with so much hope, so much _love_.

I'd kill to be that way again.

"You'd figure that by this age, he would be able to keep himself in line," I commented, grinning. Logan stopped walking, shooting me a look.

"It's _Carlos_, Mimi. He will never be in line," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Still, it's fun trying to subdue him," I retorted as I ceased my movements as well.

"Clearly, you've been away from us too long," he replied, carding his fingers through his hair. "He's only gotten worse."

"Whatever, Mitchell," I laughed, grabbing his arm. "Come on, let's get this over with."

"Mia Giordano, are you actually _excited_ for orientation?" he joked, smirking as we strolled inside. I hit him playfully on the shoulder, grinning as he winced, rubbing the now sore area with a slight scowl. An animated Carlos waved at us, jumping up and down before being subdued by Ms. Burgess, a pained expression on her countenance.

Clearly, she was not a fan of his enthusiasm.

"Mimi! Logie!" he shouted, refusing to let her bring him down. Logan groaned, knowing that he was most likely going to get an earful from her later.

"Chin up, Mitchell," I said, snickering. "That's our best friend over there, you know."

"Yeah, I know," he said, waving back at Carlos before glaring at him, giving him a look of warning. "But does he have to be so_ loud_?"

"It's Carlos, Logie," I replied, waving back at the energetic boy with a smile. "He _always_ has to be loud."

"Touche, Giordano, touche," he said as he ceased his movements. "I just hope you're ready for him." He gestured towards a seat in the front row, by far the sparsest area in the room. Almost everyone had chosen seats in the back, afraid of the stigma that was associated with sitting in the anterior. I didn't blame them; the space was notorious for attention; the last thing I wanted, or needed at the moment. I sat down, donning an awkward—but genuine—smile in Logan's direction, placing my schedule and planner in my lap. I watched as he departed from me, taking a seat on the stage next to Carlos, who had calmed down significantly, much to Ms. Burgess's satisfaction. I could see why Logan had chosen it; it provided a clear vantage point so that I could see both boys at any time, something I couldn't have gotten had I sat in the back.

I beamed, regarding them as they mirrored my affection, taking a break from looking over what appeared to be an itinerary, judging by their contrasting countenances. Carlos's eyes had glazed over, his movements outlandish as he tried to concentrate on anything but the paper, while Logan looked down, serious, slapping him on the shoulder whenever he'd gotten a little too rowdy for Logan's liking. I shook my head, wondering if anything had changed between the boys at all, or if they were the same twelve-year-olds I'd left behind years ago, in different skins. Their development was something I was more than curious about, as it was one of the few transitions I hadn't feared completely. Time would eventually reveal those answers, but for now, I was content holding onto the pieces that I loved, the ones that remained steadfast, powering through life's chaos.

* * *

An hour later, I walked in time with a spirited Carlos as he showed me in the ins and outs of the school, the tour more entertaining than informative, just as Logan had predicted. Areas of high-interest spoken with a dramatic flair that could only be associated with the enthusiastic boy, while lower points were either glossed over, blown off completely, or tossed to the side, saved for a 'later' that I knew would never come. Logan had promised me a more 'concise' and 'accurate' showing later on in the week if I so choose, amazed at how quickly he seemed to assimilate back into the protective role he'd happily taken on years ago. Maybe that was what he needed; to be the rock that kept me stable, afloat, even, as I began my life anew. I was grateful for the guidance; without it, I would have sunk the second my body hit the water.

"Mimi, you alright?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. I blinked, before blushing as I realized that I had stared off into space once, again caught up in my own thoughts.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry Carlos," I said, hurriedly. "Um, what were you saying about the, um—"

"—Library?" he finished, frowning. "Mimi, if you wanna take a break, we can. There's no rush. I mean, it's just the library. It's only good for napping and checking out _Helmet Magazine_. Oh, and printing out last minute homework that _someone_ refuses to help you with." He crossed his arms over his chest, nose in the air as he said this, making me giggle.

Carlos Garcia had always been my favorite diversion. His youthfulness was a strong reminder of the hidden wonders that life held, ones that I had discarded long ago. His enthusiasm was contagious; once you saw him in action, you immediately wanted to join in, unable to resist his magnetic pull. Everything about him was pure, his innocence palatable enough to make you want to hold him close, protecting him from the evils of the world.

However, he was also wild and reckless, acting more on impulse rather than thought, which earned him a metal plate in his head at the age of nine after a particularly ridiculous stunt. The details were a bit fuzzy—I was home sick with the chicken pox at the time, courtesy of Kendall—but it somehow involved a skateboard, model rockets, a poorly constructed ramp, and for some reason I would never understand, a cardboard cutout of Lightening the Wonder Dog. Either way, the boys and I were there every night, telling jokes to the boy as he recovered, tying up the phone line on days that we couldn't come. We took turns, passing the receiver around to speak to our fallen friend, reminding him how much we loved and cared about him. We'd even gone as far as making a bucket list of things we'd do together the second he got released, from the most innocent to the most reckless, within reason.

Our relationship—on my side, anyway—was love/hate…at least, at the beginning. Although I adored the boy for exacting revenge on Jo—resulting in him getting an extra snack-pack during lunch—his personality was often too much for me to bear. He was always so _loud_, (my mother always joked that I'd spent the majority of my childhood with my hands covering my ears), so _jumpy,_ (resulting in me having to redo a science project I'd spent weeks on, when he could no longer sit still), so _disgusting_ (I was more than sure that I'd seen every piece of food he'd masticated from ages four to eight).

But, despite these setbacks, there was something about him that made me put up with his obnoxious behavior, even on days when I would have liked nothing more than to punch the vivacious boy in the face.

He was a good friend.

It was because of this, and this attribute alone why I dealt with him; whether I liked it or not, he always had my back. His heart bled for everyone; he was more than willing to help someone out, casting personal emotion aside, with few exceptions. This attitude only multiplied with us, resulting in him diving head-first into whatever we were stuck with, even if he knew nothing about the subject. It was a quality about him I admired, that sucked me in even when I desperately wanted to opt-out of our friendship. Carlos was both a sweetheart and a pain-in-the-ass—a deadly combination in theory, but in practice, made for some unforgettable memories.

"Come on, Carlos. You know that Logan has always encouraged that we figure things out for ourselves. He is simply 'a guide that helps us get there,'" I replied, repeating word-for-word the speech he had been giving us since the age of seven.

"Yes, but his homework _guides_ me to the correct answers. It totally cuts out the middle-man!" he argued, throwing his arms up towards the heavens.

"I agree," I replied, throwing him a bone, "But remember, there's a reason why Logan stopped doing homework for you guys in fifth grade."

"We said that we were sorry about the exam thing!" he wearied, slumping his shoulders. "I bought his lunch, and all the books he wanted for the next year and half!"

"Admit it, though. It's so much more satisfying when you figure things out on your own," I countered with a smile.

"Ye—_Maybe_," he replied, petulantly. "But it's still hard, sometimes!" he huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But let's get back to you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"_Yes, Carlos,_" I said, shaking my head. "I'm fine. I just lost my head for a little bit, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked as he began to walk once more, leading me away from the library. The halls were littered with students trying to find their respective classrooms, the end-result of a last-minute decision Ms. Burgess had made earlier that morning. She'd foregone the touring system Logan had in place, for one a school district two towns over had adopted to rave reviews. Basically, students were to go off on their own—with help and supervision, of course—to find their classes, homerooms, and lockers all by themselves. The system was guaranteed to 'help teens to both acclimate and explore their new environment.'

Logan had been more than a little pissed about the change.

"Not really," I said, dejectedly as a couple of freshmen pushed past us, arguing about the whereabouts of their next room. "Well, at least not _here_, anyway."

"W-Well we can go somewhere, if you want," he said, shrugging. "Or I can keep showing you the school. Whatever makes you comfortable." He paused. There's a great place down the street that sells chili cheese fries and corn dogs!"

"Oh no, no, no," I said, laughing. "I promised Logan that wouldn't ditch for chili cheese fries! Besides, isn't that what got you into trouble last time?"

"The guy had never been there before!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "It would have been a crime not to take him, Mimi. A _crime_! And it's not like I could leave everyone else behind! Plus, they make great smoothies. It's like food nirvana. It_ changes_ you." He looked into my eyes, his expression serious, as if he were making sure I'd gotten the full extent of his words.

I blinked.

"Um, why don't we just go talk?" I suggested, moving away from him. He nodded, sensing my nervousness, leading me up the nearest stairwell without a sound. It wasn't long before we reached the top, pushing through a set of double-doors that lead to a bright, windowed hallway.

"Wow," I whispered as we stepped inside, reaching up to shield my eyes from the sun. The windows were floor-to-ceiling, with thick, painted railings that lined either side.

"Isn't it cool?" Carlos commented as he looked out of the nearest one, admiring the view. One side allowed a full view of the campus, showing the tops of sections that went beyond the U, while the other highlighted areas we had already seen, from the quad all the way to the middle school that was just across the street, Sherwood Junior High.

"It's supposed to kind of act as a bridge, to save time between classes if you're on the other side of the school and need to get to class. It shaves a few minutes off," he continued as I stood next to him, my hands gripping the top of the banister.

"I'll have to remember to frequent it, then," I said quietly, a soft smile playing against my lips. "It's lovely to see."

"Yeah, it is, but only if you have time to really look at it. Otherwise, it's only good for the change in scenery, which is pretty epic, especially during winter!" Carlos said, enthusiastically. "It's like being in a giant snowglobe!" I grimaced; those were the exact words my mother used to describe Sherwood in the winter. It was almost as if the entire town had transformed into a winter wonderland, as all seasons were celebrated with gusto; it was practically a tradition. The only time we'd gotten a break was during the post-holiday season, when we'd gotten more than enough cheer to last a lifetime. I could still picture her taking me through the town, admiring the various displays as we both became caught up in Christmas cheer. I almost felt her hands cupping mine, squeezing it tightly when she became excited over ones that were truly extraordinary, the lights dancing playfully across her skin. It was one of my favorite memories.

"That_ is_ pretty cool," I agreed before turning around, leaning against the fencing. If Carlos had noticed my discomfort, he didn't show it. Instead, he did the same, his body flush against the barrier as he rubbed his palms together, his vision shifting towards me.

"So…let's talk!" he said, cheerfully. I almost agreed, getting caught up in his spirited attitude before my defenses kicked in just seconds later, sedating my pace.

"Um…" I started to say, tangling my hands in my hair as I tried to think of what to say. I looked down at my shoes, trying to suppress the urge that begged me to let it drop, to bottle it up just like I had everything else. But I couldn't. Not anymore. "C-Can we start slow? I mean, don't get me wrong, I wanna talk, there's just so much going on in my head."

He paused for a minute, contemplating, before replying, "You know what I think you need? Fruit Smackers." He dug into his pockets, before pulling out two lime green packets, tossing one in my direction while the other was ripped open unceremoniously, causing some to fall on the onto the floor.

"Slow down there, buddy!" I laughed, opening my own pack slowly.

"No way! I've waited all day to have these babies. _They will be mine!_" he replied, bending down to pick them up. He dropped them back into the bag, sealing it with his index finger before shaking it, just as he'd always done as a child. "There, now they're all on the same playing field." I giggled, popping a couple into my mouth, savoring the taste.

"God, I forgot how_ good_ these things are!" I exalted, smiling.

"How can you forget about Fruit Smackers?" Carlos asked, examining me. "We used to eat them all the time until you left!"

"I'm sorry! My candy consumption _kinda_ fell to the wayside after I moved," I defended, rolling my eyes in jest. "Most of the time, I was happy just to make it through the day."

"I understand," he said solemnly. We ate in silence after that, the only sound permeating the room the crinkle of plastic as we began to empty out our pouches, the multicolored treats contrasting sharply against our palms. It wasn't awkward at all; in fact, I gotten much-needed contentment out of it, the joy of just being with someone without the weight of drama lagging behind us. At least, not yet, anyway.

"Hey, Carlos?" I asked a few minutes later, finally striking up the courage.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever felt as if your entire world has been thrown off? And no matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to get your balance back?" I asked, though I didn't wait for answer. Instead, my vision moved towards the landscape, studying every feature. I wondered if Carlos had detected that, the need for a distraction in order to hold me up, to get me through the things I wasn't ready to stomach just yet. He consistently noticed the small, taking them to heart, and saving them for keeps, using them at just the right time. I had more than enough reality to last a lifetime; an existence so painful that it made me want to disappear completely. But they wouldn't let me. The _world_ wouldn't let me. They wanted me to soldier on through a battle that I no longer wished to be in. I didn't want to be a survivor, I wanted to be a casualty.

"No, not really…" he replied, solemnly. "Why? D-Do you feel like that here?"

"Yes," I said, sighing. "I feel like I am being thrust back into a life that I'm not ready for, and I can't handle it. It's too much of a change for me, too much to adapt to all at once."

"We're not asking you to do that though, Mimi," Carlos pointed out, moving to the other side of the hall. I was forced to make eye contact with him now, a concept I wasn't pleased with. The scenery was to help me open up; now that I had, there was no turning back. "We're just trying to help you so that you can feel comfortable here again. We know this isn't easy for you; we just wanna support you."

"I know," I replied, my eyes on anywhere but him. "It's not like I don't appreciate what you all have been doing for me, it's just that so much of myself is in tune with the way that I used to live. I feel like you guys underestimate that a lot. You're all so hell bent on getting me to talk and to move on, but it's not that easy, especially when you're so used to your life being wrapped around the negative. It's all I know how to be, it's all I _want _to be." I shifted, tugging at the collar of my shirt as I inhaled, anxiety from my sudden exposure running rampant. "It's the only thing that I can take comfort in, because I can make sense of it. None of _this_ does." I gestured towards the view as I said 'this,' taking a precursory glance at it before moving my gaze elsewhere.

"Then let _us _do it," Carlos replied, taking a step towards me. "That's why you have friends, Mimi—to make sense of things that you can't. I know it's gonna take time, but you've gotta learn to trust us. You're not alone anymore, Mia, and we're not going to let you be."

"You're starting to sound like Kendall," I grumbled, frowning.

"Kendall's right," he said matter-of-factly. He threw a Fruit Smacker into the air, grinning as the candy soared upwards, spun, and then fell into his mouth with ease.

"Yeah, well…" I muttered, giving him a look of distaste.

"Look, I know that you think that we've been "in-your-face" lately, but it's only because we care. We just…we just couldn't stand to see you locked up in your room anymore. We had to do _something_," he said. "But I'm glad we did, otherwise we wouldn't be standing here talking and eating Fruit Smackers. Besides, you can't regret it too much. You _have_ reached out to us, Mia. It may have been hard, but the fact that you did, takes a lot of guts."

"What if I'm scared to lean on you guys again?" I proposed. "After the whole Kendall thing."

"That's just it, Meems. I'm not Kendall, and James and Logan aren't either. And you know how badly he's been kicking himself in the ass for not believing you. I doubt he's stupid enough to make that mistake twice," he pointed out. "And if he is, that's what my Tiger Shark move is for." He then made a claw with his free hand, letting out a low, animalistic growl as he moved his head around predatorily.

"Tiger Shark move? Really?" I asked, laughing. It was times like these that made me glad that I had warmed up to Carlos Garcia over the years. Although it had taken a while, eventually, I learned to love every aspect of him; the good, as well as the bad. No exceptions.

"Yeah, It_ totally_ works!" he defended, confidently. "And for the record, he _does_ wanna talk to you. He's just scared. He doesn't really know how to approach you about it; he's worried he's gonna start another fight."

"There won't _be_ another fight as long as he cools it on the jealousy," I pointed out, following Carlos's lead and devouring another gummy as well. "For fuck's sake, James was helping me. I am pretty sure I wouldn't be talking to you right now if he hadn't have opened the floodgates of emotion."

"He just misses being that person for you, you know, to open them," he said. "Just talk to him, all right? Don't let him leave this time either."

"I won't make any promises, Garcia. But I'll try," I replied, shoving another handful into my mouth.

"As long as you do," he replied, happily. "I've just really missed the five of us being together. I know the circumstances aren't great, but I really think we can all get through this." He paused. "Just give us a chance, Mimi, _please_?"

"Fine," I conceded. "But, you guys can't push me too hard, okay?"

"Deal!" he exclaimed before rushing over to me and giving me a bear-hug. I returned the gesture, grinning wildly as I did so. "Oh, It's gonna be so great, Mimi! You'll see! We're never gonna let you down again."

"You do realize that I'm gonna hold you to that, right?"

"I'll even make it a promise," he declared with confidence, before inhaling the rest of his Fruit Smackers. "I never break those."

* * *

I wasn't sure why I was hesitating.

I knew that this was something I needed to do, the very thing that would silence the demons that ran through me ever since that fateful evening.

Yet, there I stood, reflexes at the ready, feet moving with unease as I stared the door, the one that could create or destroy the world I'd built for myself at a moment's notice. The one that kept me safe.

I hadn't expected the collision, the harsh reality that my world was no longer just that, mine. It had become transparent, raw and exposed rather than hidden and tucked away, lost among the madness. I missed it, I _wanted_ it. I wanted to go back.

But I couldn't.

Fate had pushed me forward, adding, subtracting, and dividing all at once, forcing me into a place where I could no longer conceal. The actions that shrouded me in my old life held me back in the new, destroying everything around me, eliciting a truth I wasn't ready to bear.

My life had changed.

Realization burned through me, tainting my skin, my _essence_, fear overtaking every cell as I stepped back, ready to run...until I heard his voice.

_"I just want it to stop. I'd give anything to make it stop. We-we used to be so fucking close, and now it's like we barely know each other, all because I fucked up so badly. My aunt is __**dead**__, because I fucked up so badly. It's all I can do not to put a fucking gun to my head and kill myself."_

I had to do it.

Trembling hands met with painted wood as I knocked on his door, the sound undercutting me more than I would have liked. It was amazing how much my existence mirrored it; hollow, empty, but somehow, still standing.

"What do you want?" he growled, the irritation his tone enough to silence me completely. I struggled to find my voice, fingers pressed against my throat as I attempted to clear it. The sound jarred me, all but echoing in my head, shaking me to the core. _Could I really do this?_

"I-I want to come in," I replied softly, my fingers falling to the side.

"_Mia?_" he answered, incredulous.

"Please? It's important," I said, gulping. Silence followed, the lack of sound enough to drive me crazy, raising my anxiety tenfold._ 'Come on, Kendall,' _I thought to myself, as I closed my eyes._ 'Let me in.' _He didn't.

Before I could think it through, I found myself opening the door, stepping inside the very space I'd made a point to push to the back of my mind. Nostalgia flooded me once more, a cacophony of memories made and cherished, yet somehow, had fallen to the wayside. The space had largely stayed the same, save for a few mature touches, but for the most part, it was everything I'd remembered it to be.

"You know, I didn't actually say 'come in,'" he sniped, raising a brow in my direction.

"Well, maybe you should try locking your door," I countered, as I closed it behind me.

"_Maybe_ I will," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. I sighed, resting my head against the doorframe, gathering up my courage once again. Clearly, this was going to be harder than I thought.

"Can we talk?" I asked, resignedly, wrapping my arms loosely around my waist.

"Sure, go ahead," he replied, solemnly. "Talk."

"I just…I just wanted to you to know that none of what happened…" I paused, swallowing as I held back tears, "to my _parents_, wasn't your fault. I know I said that at dinner the other day, but I just wanted you to hear it from me, you know, again." I ran my fingers through my hair, looking anywhere but him, afraid that his reaction would throw me off completely, closing me up before I had gotten a chance to say what was on my mind. "I want you…I want you to stop blaming yourself. If I'm being completely honest, even with your help, things probably would have turned out the same way. Just…with more bodies." I shuddered at the thought, the _idea_ of anyone else getting caught up in the madness, their lives ending in the same grotesque manner as _them_.

It made me sick.

"I know what it's like, you know? To constantly blame yourself, to have that guilt. It eats you alive, it steals everything from you. I'm used to feeling that way, to _being_ that way. It's the only thing that feels right, that guilt, that _fear._ It's all I know, and I don't want that for you. Plus, I had thousands of opportunities to get help, if there was anyone to blame, at least, before things got this bad, i-it was me," I said, looking down. There it was, the truth, spelled out for me to see. It was so easy to fix things in retrospect, to fit the pieces that hadn't belonged, the clear, cohesive image all but rudimentary. If only I had the prowess to figure it out then, maybe things would have been different. Maybe _he _would be different. Now, I'd never know.

"It wasn't you," he said, getting up from the bed. "I don't think it was any of us. It was all _him_." His fingers curled into fists, anger evident as he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before calming down. It was just like him to become angered easily, especially when it came to his loved ones, my mind recalling various moments when I had to all but force him to take it easy, even after the most minor of brushes. Friendship meant everything to him; once you had his loyalty, you kept it as it grew into something you wouldn't expect. Something beautiful.

"I just wish I was there for you, and Aunt Sophie, too," he continued. "That's what's killing me the most, that I couldn't be there for you guys. I think…it's what's killing my mom, too. She and Aunt Sophie were best friends, and even_ she_ didn't know how bad it was."

"That's only because we never told you," I admitted, frowning. "We were too scared. It was just easier to keep quiet, at least then, we kinda knew what to expect. Plus, he didn't exactly, um, make it easy for us to tell anyone."

"What did he do?" he asked, concerned. I shook my head.

"Don't push it," I said. "This conversation is hard enough as it is."

"You're gonna have to talk to someone eventually, Mia," he said.

"Yes, but_ eventually_ doesn't mean 'right now,'" I countered, albeit, weakly. "Besides, we're supposed to be talking about_ you_ here."

"Yeah, but this isn't just about me, it's about you, too," he said. "The fact is, no matter how you look at it, I hurt you. And you know how much I hate doing that, especially to a friend."

"You did," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I admit, it sucked knowing that you didn't believe me, but then again, why would you? The odds weren't exactly in my favor."

"Still, I shouldn't have said that stuff about the guys. It wasn't true, and I knew it. I was just really pissed," he said, as he walked over to me. He leaned up against the wall, our bodies just inches from each other as he turned to look at me, his face etched with concern. It was hard not to make eye contact with him at that point, knowing he was so close. It was…_comforting_.

"Yeah, that _was _kind of a douche move," I said, causing the two of us to laugh. "Seriously, though. You've got to stop with the blame, Kendall. I know you have a superhero complex and everything, but you can't protect everyone 24/7. It's just not possible. Do I wish, with all of my heart, that you believed me that night? Yes, of course. But that night _didn't_ kill my parents."

"But if I'd at least given you a chance—"

"—You would have gotten sucked in too, and made things worse. Either way, everyone was screwed no matter what." There was silence after that, my words hanging in the air as we both stared straight ahead, unsure of where to go from there. Deep down, we knew it was true, it was just easier to shoulder the blame.

"But if you knew that, then why were you mad at me?" he asked, looking at me once more. I hesitated.

"Because you were my friend, my _best_ friend," I said. "I felt like you betrayed me. I thought you'd always be there for me, and then when you weren't…"

"…You just kinda shut down," he finished, sighing. "See, _this_ is why I feel so fucking guilty. I knew I should have believed you. I knew I—"

"—_Stop_, Kendall," I interrupted, groaning. "Did you or did you not just say that it was his fault, not ours?"

"Yeah, but—" he started to say, before I cut him off.

"—But nothing. It is what it is. All we can do now is move forward, but I'm not gonna do that until I know that you're gonna let this go."

"Can _you_?" he asked, after a moment of silence. I didn't know what to say. The question went beyond us, beyond our relationship, moving into far deeper waters. It hadn't just applied to this, it applied to _everything_. I recalled my conversation with Carlos, how eager he was for me to give everyone a second chance, his resolve, like so much else about him, contagious.

_"Oh, It's gonna be so great, Mimi! You'll see! We're never gonna let you down again."_

"Yes," I said, quietly. "But…it's gonna take time."

"Good," he said, smiling. "Then I can, too."

I smiled back. "So what happens now?"

He shrugged. "That depends. What do you _want _to happen?"

"I don't know," I said, muttering. "But I'll take anything that involves you." I blushed, the words slipping out before I'd even had a chance to catch them. There they were, filling the space between us, giving us the hope we both desperately needed—Even if I didn't want to admit it.

"So what you're saying is…you need me," he said, grinning wickedly.

I knew I was going to regret this.

"No…" I said, slowly, so that he could understand. "I need _everyone_." He shook his head in disbelief, chuckling as I blushed in response, hating how he could get a rise out of me so easily. Some things never change. "Besides, we can't keep doing what we're doing. We're-we're…hurting everyone." He paused for a moment, almost as if he were considering this, before speaking once more.

"It's not just about us anymore, is it?"

"This? No. But there will always be things that are just between us."

"You swear?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

I smiled. "I swear."


	6. Chapter 5 Part 1: Monsters

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So...it's been a long time. Too long, in fact. There's a lot of reasons why this update took so long, some of them highlighted in the author's note of my oneshot, Want and Wonder (which you should read, btw!) but to make a long story short...yet again, there's been a lot going on in my life, including my own sense of loss. That, coupled with writer's block made things extremely difficult to do.**

**Anyway, I'm back, and Chapter 5 is setting up to be another long one, so I'm splitting it into two parts. This one is a bit more filler than anything, and serves as a nice setup to part 2. I'm posting it now, mostly because I've been prodded to do so, and because I'm leaving extra-long chapters to my wife, waterwicca.**

**This chapter is dedicated to HisCoverGirl. Without her, it would most likely NEVER get done, and because she tolerates me constantly fretting about this story. I love you.**

**I accept both SIGNED and ANONYMOUS reviews, so don't be shy, and review!**

**Also, if you wanna bug me, feel free to check out my tumblr. The link is in my profile!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Big Time Rush. I do own Mia, and any other OCs therein.**

* * *

_Chapter 5: Monsters (Part 1)_

* * *

It was almost too easy to fall back into, the routine of it all. It was as if time had no meaning or weight, bypassing smoothly, the only evidence dropped voices and elongated bones.

I watched as those same bones, covered by taut, but aged, skin, dive into the crystalline water, ignoring the dissonance around them. It was almost angelic, the way they moved, as if they were born to cut through it, the substance beading against them the second they came up for air, defining every curve.

One by one they went, water splashing in every direction, aware of everything and nothing all at once.

I admired them from afar, their ability to just _be_, no questions asked, fun and freedom at their disposal, clutched between tight fingers.

I wasn't quite there yet.

Even now, as I laid by the pool, I felt exposed, shifting uncomfortably against the all-too-comfortable material of the lounger beneath me. I'd been clad from head to toe, dressed in denim shorts and an old tee, brown sandals adorning my feet. Slowly, but surely, I'd begun to slip them off, hoping the action would go undetected, content to watch from the sidelines rather than join the fray.

I'd already done more than my fair share of participation.

"Gonna join us, Meems?" James asked, as he moved to the edge of the pool. He flashed one of his more charming smiles, the kind designed to melt hearts and minds in a matter of seconds. On anyone else, it would have worked, their body piercing the water on command, unable to resist the open, yet somehow, enigmatic, charisma that was James Diamond. I was drawn to it myself, tempted to give into urges that had suddenly come to life at the hands of the muscular boy. I held back.

"Not today, Jamie," I replied back, looping my fingers through the straps of my sandals before dropping them onto the concrete below. It was almost unsettling, how smooth he was. It made my skin crawl, knowing that I could be influenced with as little as a _smile_. It was almost like a superpower.

"Meems, it's the Waterball Championship of the _World_. You _have_ to play!" he said, crossing his arms. "Tell her, Carlos!"

"It's gonna be _epic_, Mimi!" he exclaimed from the other side of the pool, gearing himself for yet another cannonball. He jumped up and down on the board, grin spread wide across his face as he looked down at the water once more, eagerness all but radiating from him. "You don't wanna miss it!"

"You do realize that you guys can't make me do anything, right?" I teased, playfully.

"Sure I can. Five minutes of my classic Diamond charm and you won't be able to resist," James replied, grinning.

I laughed.

"Let it go, James," Kendall said from behind an issue of _Hockey Magazine_. He'd taken his usual place by my side, refusing to get into the pool as well, not wanting to leave me alone.

I'd protested, the tension thick between us as we battled it out before I finally gave in, surrendering to his stubbornness. I'd glared at him as he plopped down onto the lounger, sunglasses perched haughtily over his nose, as he shot me a smile.

"If Mia doesn't wanna get in, she doesn't wanna get in," he continued, shrugging.

"Like you should talk. I've seen the way you've been eying the pool," James countered cooly. "You totally wanna get in."

"I have _not_!" Kendall protested over his magazine.

"Have too!" James retorted, pointing at him. "You've been looking at it the way you do when Sports Time comes out with new hockey gear."

"_Shut up_, James."

"Wha-What's that? I can't hear you over all this fun!" James said, splashing Kendall. I giggled, earning a glare from Kendall and another smile from James. "See, now Mia's having fun too."

"Stop splashing me, James..." Kendall warned.

"Or what? You're not gonna get in the pool, and I _know_ you're not gonna ruin that issue of _Hockey_ magazine by throwing it at me," James pointed out, smirking. "So technically I'm safe, and you're not!" He splashed him once more, sporting a grin as Kendall tried to keep his cool, his lips forming a hard line as he inhaled deeply.

"You do realize that I can get up from this chair, right?" he replied once he'd calmed down, his rebound rate surprisingly quick. He was used to James fucking with him, using almost every opportunity he had to shake the boy's valiant stronghold. Though he'd gotten it on all sides on a regular basis—one of the many perks of having 3 best friends—there was something about James's ribbing in particular that stung him more than the others. There had always been a silent rivalry between the two, the tension constantly teetering on the edge between playful and serious, a line so thin that I wondered if it was even there at all, the two sides melding into something completely different that neither boy could recognize.

God knows we couldn't.

"You can try…but agility is not on your side, my friend," James replied, his voice ripe and rasp. "I know this space better than anyone. So even if you did get up from that chair—which you won't—it'd only be a matter of time before I'd catch you, throw you in the pool and do my patented James Diamond victory dance."

"Oh, yeah?" Kendall said, raising an eyebrow. "Bring it."

"Oh, it's already been brought, my friend," he whispered, his tone still husky before getting out of the pool, chasing after Kendall the second his feet hit the concrete. Carlos and I laughed as we watched them, admiring their agility as they made their way around the area, trading insults back and forth as they picked up speed, just barely dodging the furniture around them.

It wasn't long before Kendall was catapulted into the pool, a scowl on his face the second he came up for air, as James danced victoriously.

Then it stopped.

It was as if the whole scene had been put on pause, everyone's actions stopping in mid-movement, save for the sound of high heels clacking against concrete. I felt as if I were an outsider looking in, fingers pressed against the glass as I took in the area around me, basking in the wonder.

It happened every time she walked into a room, her presence alone enough to strike fear in the hearts of anyone in the vicinity, her rage more legend rather than cautionary tale.

I'd been taught how to stand up to her a long time ago, so her presence didn't phase me. Still, I'd forced myself to sit up straight, an involuntary hand moving to smooth down my hair as I watched her, her arms immediately intertwining before sitting on her chest.

Her name was Brooke Diamond.

Founder and CEO of the Brooke Diamond Cosmetics, a backwards basement experiment turned multi-million dollar company in just two years. She was the epitome of both bark _and_ bite, a lethal combination that made even the bravest of men shiver in their boots. It also made her good at her job, taking on life with the ferocity of a feral animal. Whatever she did, she did it well, with no regrets.

Except parenting.

It wasn't exactly breaking news that James despised the hold his mother had on him, hell bent on keeping him close, despite the fact that more often that not, she was barely home. Even now, I could see it. The way her fingers twitched, itching for the one things Brooke Diamond never seemed to be without, her smartphone, while simultaneously keeping a sharp eye on James. Her internal tug-of-war wasn't palpable to many, but I always sensed it, thanks in large part to my mother's observant eyes, breaking down the monster-like persona of Brooke into something like a children's tale, with a quick beginning, middle, and end.

Brooke Diamond thrived on dominance, all but living for the god-like power that came with it. It was almost as if she didn't know how to function any other way but her own—the rest of us forced to follow along, regardless of our feelings. To her, the world was finite, destined to bend in whatever direction _she_ saw fit. Though she'd always been a control freak, the tendency seemed to exacerbate after her failed marriage to James's father, Andrew—the one thing in life she _couldn't_ restrain. She channeled all of her pain into her business, hell bent on proving that she didn't need him—building the life she'd always dreamed of having, one that he was allegedly holding her back from. Behind her bravado, Brooke Diamond was just as pliable as the rest of us, she chose not to show it, shoving it to the side along with the rest of her emotions. She had already been vulnerable once, and it cost her nearly everything she had. She wasn't about to do it again.

Her only soft spot lied in James, and even that was jagged, as she'd spent the majority of her time trying to make him into the person she wanted him to be, rather than accept him for what he was. It had been going on since childhood, Brooke all but rejecting the activities James wanted to do, and swapping them with ones she thought he should do instead, "priming him for adult life." Mrs. Knight took pity on him, and secretly shuttled him to the ones he craved, willing to endure Brooke's wrath if it meant taking away the permanent frown etched on the boy's face.

When it all finally came to a head, it was my mother—Brooke's biggest rival, as she was the only one who wasn't afraid of her—who convinced her to lighten her hold a bit, compromising with James. It resulted in a happy medium for both, though there was still one point of contention:

James's future.

It was no secret that he wanted to be a pop star, musical talent running through him since birth. His dream was to go to Los Angeles and pay his dues in order to make it big, a dream that his mother was more than determined to squash, finding that it "undermined the Diamond standard" for quality of life. It was the one thing James fought his mother on, and one of the many that kept them apart, regardless of her constant meddling.

"Hey, boys…Mia," she said, her face softening slightly the second we made eye contact.

Fuck.

Despite their adversarial tendencies, my mom and Brooke were actually good friends. She'd like to think of them as a 'dying breed,' as they both were extremely headstrong—hence their penchant for conflict. The transition itself was amazing, if you hadn't seen their relationship up close, you could have sworn that they hated each other. The truth was, she respected my mother's strength, which was why the news of her death and the details behind it baffled her.

She wasn't the only one.

Even I was still sorting through the rubble, and I was the one who witnessed her demise.

"Hey, mom," James said, waving awkwardly.

"Hi, Ms. Diamond," Kendall and Carlos said in union, much to her amusement. I chose to nod, unsure if I could handle speaking to Brooke. She reminded me so much of _her_, more specifically, their friendship, the way it ping-ponged back and forth between friends and enemies, only to realize that it resided somewhere in the middle, relying heavily on the former.

Luckily, she let it slide, turning her attention towards James.

"Your _father_ is going to be late to pick you up tonight," she said with a cobra-like venom, causing us to shiver. To say that James's parents didn't get along was an understatement. At this point, everyone was scratching their heads, wondering how they'd even gotten together in the first place—let alone long enough to make James. If anything, he seemed more like the product of angry sex rather than a deep, loving marriage.

"You talked to him?" James asked, confused.

"God, no!" she scoffed, digging her heels into the concrete. "Trust me, if I was, I would be in an even worse mood. One of his secretaries called me a couple minutes ago." She rolled her eyes, taking a second to examine her nails before locking eyes with him once more. "Anyway, he says he'll be here at around 7 or 8, so have your bag ready. I'd be here to meet him—" she paused, laughing sarcastically, "—but I need to take a red-eye to L.A. to check up on the offices. No, you can't come, so don't even ask. The last thing I need right now is to be bothered with your Los Angeles bullcrap."

"It's _not_ bullcrap," James muttered.

"_Yes_, it is. And speaking of, your Young Businessmen of America meeting is tomorrow at 4. I expect you to _be there_, _on time_, _and_ in your best suit. If I hear that your behavior is nothing short of stunning, I promise you, I will make your life hell, starting with yanking those Cuda products you seem to love so much," she said, narrowing her eyes. James yelped at this, reaching up to touch his hair, looking frantic.

Brooke smiled.

"Boys, it's always nice to see you," she said, nodding to each of them. "You as well, Mia," she paused, taking a breath before continuing. "It's good to see you outside. Liz was worried you might never see the light of day again." She cleared her throat before walking off, pain fresh in her eyes as she quickened her pace, all but bee-lining towards the sliding door.

"Oh, and boys?" she called out, turning around on her heel.

"Yes, Ms. Diamond?"

"Yes, mom?"

"If I ever catch you roughhousing around my deck again, you will be banned from my pool," she said. "Goodbye boys, Mia. James, I'll call you when I land." She went inside, closing the door behind her. It wasn't long before her smartphone was cradled to her ear, lips moving a mile a minute as she waved goodbye, before walking away.

"Dude," Kendall said, after a moment of silence. "Your mom is..._tiring_."

"And what's up with the Young Businessmen of America thing? It sounds like something Logan would join," Carlos added, snickering.

"It's part of our compromise," James said, rolling his eyes. "I get music lessons if I attend those meetings, which are boring,_ and_ have no snacks. What kind of meeting doesn't have _snacks_?"

"A stupid one?" I piped in, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Exactly!" James replied, pointing at me.

"Where _is _Logan anyway?" Kendall said, looking around.

"MCAT study group," Carlos replied, sighing. "_Bor_-_ing_." Kendall and James nodded in agreement.

"So…since we can't exactly horse around anymore…what do you wanna do?" Kendall asked. We shrugged.

"I'd say Water Olympics, but I'm _way_ too scared of James's mom," Carlos said, trembling. "I don't wanna die!"

"Relax, Carlitos," Kendall said, getting out of the water. "No one's gonna die."

"Actually, there _was_ a reason why I wanted you guys to come over," James said, taking a seat in the nearest pool chair. Kendall raised an eyebrow, while Carlos jumped up and down excitedly on the diving board.

"What is it? What is it?" he asked, cheerfully.

"Carlos, are you ever gonna jump off of that board?"

"Hey, the perfect cannonball takes _time_ and _patience_," Carlos huffed. "Neither of which, you two have, which is why _my_ splashes are 1,000 times better than yours!"

"Um, excuse me, my splashes are just as good as anybody's, including yours!" James retorted, scowling.

"Yeah! Who died and made you cannonball king?" Kendall asked, haughtily.

"You guys did last summer, after the Cannonballer 9000 beat out your Splash-O-Matic 10000, AND your Water-Baller 700!" Carlos replied, pointing at Kendall and James, respectively.

"We would have had bigger splashes if there were more water!" James shouted, crossing his arms.

"Yeah! The pool was pretty much drained after the Cannonballer!" Kendall added, before nodding curtly for emphasis.

"Um, can we please get back to James's announcement?" I asked. "As much as I'm dying to know what happened here last summer, I'm pretty sure what he has to say is more important."

"That's debatable," Kendall said, smirking.

"Um, no, it isn't, because I'm declaring the first End-Of-Summer Party of the Summer," James said, before standing up. "And before you say anything, I know it's not exactly the end of summer yet, but it's getting close, and we know that August is pretty much party central here in Sherwood."

"It's not even August yet," Kendall pointed out. "Besides, we aren't exactly prime party material yet."

"Yes, we are, and we'll just have a Pre-End-Of Summer-Party Party," he replied, shrugging.

"You said 'party' twice," I pointed out, amused.

"You bet I did," he replied, pointing at me once more. I giggled.

"James, have you forgotten what this summer has been like for us so far?" Kendall asked, moving closer to him. "Specifically,_ one_ person in particular." He glanced at me. I already felt my face getting hot, hating how I was now the center of attention. I had been more than comfortable being the background player, blending in with the scene. Now, there I was, spotlight shining, my vulnerability for all to see.

"Yeah, and how long are you going to keep her in this little box?" James retorted, clenching his fists. "Maybe the party exactly what she needs. She needs to let go, be free. Not treated like she's some kind of China doll."

"Guys…" Carlos spoke up with unease, looking at me with sympathy. As of that moment, he knew me the best; our conversation at the school spinning off into a couple more since then, albeit a bit more light-hearted. "Maybe we should talk about this later…"

"Stay out of it, Carlos!" they said in unison, causing _me_ to stand.

"Hey!" I shouted, walking over to them. "In case you forgot, that boy is the reason why I'm even here today. So don't fucking tell him to stay out of it, alright?" Kendall and James looked down.

"Yeah…" he conceded, sighing. "I still can't believe Carlos gave you advice though." Carlos looked at him, confused.

"What's not to believe?" he asked. "I'm brilliant!"

"Really? Was it _brilliant _of you going to a talking parrot for advice?" Kendall asked.

"Or telling me that by washing my hair with toilet water, it would make it grow?" James added, huffing.

"Wait, you actually believed that?" Carlos asked, grinning. "Awesome!"

"_That's not the point!_" James shrieked, scowling.

"How did you even know what to say?" Kendall asked.

"I dunno, I just asked myself what you would say," Carlos replied, shrugging. "You know, when we're in the locker room before the big game, and you give us those speeches? I-I always listen to them." He blushed. "Well that, and remember? Logan made us take that advice class after the Melanie Tompkin incident?"

"Ugh, please don't remind me," Kendall pleaded, face palming.

"Three weeks! Three-_fucking_-weeks of my life, wasted!" James complained, tiling his head back. "I had to cancel all of my dates, because I had to study. And he would call me, all the time, to make sure I did it. Worst. Period. Of my life."

"What was the Melanie Tompkin incident?" I asked, confused.

"We're not allowed to talk about it," Carlos replied.

"Yeah, we took an oath," Kendall added, before shrugging. "Sorry, Meems."

"Can we get back to my party now?" James asked. "Because it's kind of important."

"The party you're not having? Sure," Kendall said as he walked back over to his chair, grabbing a towel.

"I _am_ having it, and you guys _will_ be there. We've been bumming for too long, it's time to get back in the game, and what better way to do it than to have a blowout?" James replied, grinning.

"Have you forgotten what happened to Mia at orientation?" Kendall asked, as he towel-dried his hair. "What do you think is gonna happen when she's in a packed room with a bunch of people she doesn't know?"

"She knows us, she loves us, and we'll make sure she's okay. We'll even create a safe area for her. Close enough to the party so that she can get involved, but far enough so that people won't be in her space," James proposed.

"There is no way you thought of that on your own," Kendall said, throwing the towel to the side as he took off his shirt, ringing it out. I pretended not to notice exactly how much he'd grown, the amount of muscle that had risen underneath the skin, the sight alone making me quiver slightly. I'd had the same revelation earlier with James, but at a more obvious level, causing him to wink at me.

I was mortified.

"Actually, when it comes to Partyology, we are the _masters_!" Carlos pointed out, cheering.

"It's true. I've been doing this way too long to be an amateur," James said. "Besides, my dad's in PR. You really think I don't know how to throw a party?"

"Great! But still not happening," Kendall said.

"_Yes, it is_," James retorted, glaring at him. "We need this. I need this, and I know you need this since you're being so fucking uptight about it, proving my point that we absolutely need to have a party, right now."

"Where are you going to have it, genius?"

"Dad's lake house. It's not like he's going to care." James said, scoffing. "He'll be too busy working all weekend to notice. Besides, as long as we clean up and don't do anything stupid, we'll be fine."

"It's a party, James. Someone _always_ does something stupid," Kendall argued.

"That's what the cleaning crew is for. And by cleaning crew, I mean you guys…and the guys I plan on charging to dad's credit card," James replied, smirking. "Again—he won't care," he added hastily, just as Kendall was about to speak.

"Carlos, help me?" Kendall pleaded, shooting him a hopeful look. Carlos hesitated, glancing back and forth between them, unsure of whose side to take.

"If it helps," I started to say, flinching slightly as their eyes locked on me, feeling nervous. "I-I-I really don't mind if James has a party. I mean, I'm not sure if I'll come yet, but um, it doesn't really make a difference to me."

"You're going, and I'm _not_ taking no for an answer," James insisted.

"James…" Kendall warned, glaring at him. He walked over to him, a look of warning on his face as James continued to speak, clearly at the end of his rope.

"Oh, don't worry, Kendall, you're coming too!" James assured, smiling. "So I suggest you wear your best party apparel—Oh, and bring sodies. We're definitely gonna need sodies."

"There will _be_ no sodies, because there will _be _no _party_!" Kendall yelled, his face just inches away from James.

"Yes, there will, and it starts at 9:30 PM sharp!" James shouted, moving towards the house.

"Fine! Have your party. Just don't expect us—" he paused, gesturing between us. "—to be there."

"Actually, I think that you'll be one of the first to arrive. According to the Friendship Agreement we drew up in 3rd grade, and modified in 4th, 5th, 9th, _and_ 10th grade: 'a true friend must attend all parties and/or functions thrown by another, unless in the event of illness, sudden death, or unless otherwise bro-cated due to family functions and/or events,'" James said, haughtily.

Kendall sighed.

"I guess we're partying."

* * *

"We don't actually have to go to this thing you know," Kendall said as he leaned up against my doorframe.

"_Yes_, we do," I countered, running a comb through my hair. "You heard James. It was part of the Friendship Agreement."

"Why do we have that again?" Kendall asked, giving yet another long-suffering sigh. One of the many I had been forced to endure over the course of the evening the second we left James's. It was getting on my nerves.

"Because after the Play-Doh Incident in 4th grade, we couldn't agree on what made a good friend," I answered, leaning closer to the mirror in front of me. I picked a piece of fuzz out of my hair before tossing the comb on my bed, deeming myself party ready. I'd kept it simple, wearing dark jeans and a black graphic tank, topping it off with flip-flops. My hair was down, and my face makeup free. I wasn't quite ready for that yet. "So we made a list, and vowed on Lord Prankerton's book to follow it. We also made up the Rule of Dibs that day too, after Carlos ate your favorite snack cake."

"It was_ mine, _and he _knew it_!" he shrieked, before catching himself. I laughed.

"It's good to know that you're still a fucking baby, Knight," I teased, stuffing the Knight's house keys and some cash into my pockets. I had to admit, it was nice to be…normal with him. Although things weren't 100% between us, we were slowly, but surely, finding a happy medium.

"I am _not_ a baby. I'm just…_protective_ over my snack cakes," he replied, indignantly. He looked me over. "You ready to go?"

"Pretty much," I replied, reaching over to grab cash, house keys, and the cell phone Mrs. Knight bought me last week. It still felt weird in my hands, to have a lifeline, a connection to the outside world. It was funny; a year ago, I would have killed for one of these. Now it just seemed like an inconvenience, a lesson in futility, one of the many things in my life that came too little, too late.

Like Kendall.

I stuffed it into my back pocket, the keys and cash in front, before walking over to him.

Although we were on the road to becoming friends, a small part of me couldn't help but pull back, holding my breath while I waited for the other shoe to drop. It almost seemed too good to be true, Kendall back in my life—however, like so much else, I was forced to accept it, attempting to enjoy the ride while I could.

"Let's go," he said with a smile, before being stopped by Mrs. Knight.

"Not so fast," she said, holding up her right hand. "Home by no later than 1, unless you're sleeping at James's. Which in that case, I expect a phone call by 11, and you two home by noon tomorrow. Mia, I suggest you pack an overnight bag just in case."

"Got it, Mrs. Knight," I said, moving away from Kendall to fish out a duffel bag from my closet.

"No drinking, no drugs, and if you have sex, please use a condom, or better yet, don't have it at all!" she continued, clapping her hands at the end. "That applies more to Kendall than to you Mia. But any rate, if either of you come home hungover, you're grounded. Period. No TV, no phone, no internet, nothing."

"_Mom!_" Kendall whined.

"What?" Mrs. Knight asked, confused.

"Can we go now?" he asked, his cheeks red as he watched me pack, lifting the bag over my shoulder when I was done. I smirked, even going as far as sticking out my tongue, causing him to scowl.

I loved it.

"Sure! But one more thing," Mrs. Knight replied, leaning over to kiss Kendall on the cheek before walking over to me and doing the same. I allowed it, more for her benefit than my own, as I was still not quite used to affection, but I found myself appreciating it nonetheless.

At least, for a moment.

"Have fun you two!" she said as she turned to leave, her hand resting on the doorframe the second she met it, adding as she spun around, "I'm glad you two are spending more time together. Sophia would have wanted it that way." She then left, leaving us to deal with the fallout of her words. I gripped the strap of my bag, taking a slow, long, breath, feeling Kendall's eyes on me, sympathy and sorrow all but radiating from them.

"Mia…" he started to say, before I cut him off.

"Don't. Let's just go to the party, okay?" I walked away without another word, staying silent even through the 20 minute car ride, Mrs. Knight's words running through my head.

_'Sophia would have wanted it that way.'_

Sophia was dead.

Her opinion didn't matter anymore.


End file.
